Journey To The Land Primeval
by HeatseekerX51
Summary: Dr. Quinn Darien arranges an expedition to travel to Antarctica, where lies the gateway to a land forgotten by time and evolution. Comprised of a team of KRI students, a veteran explorer, and a pair of religious warriors, they delve down to a subterranean world of monsters, sub-human savages, and the truth behind Earth's Kaiju.
1. Prologue

_**~~~~~~~~~~~~PROLOG~~~~~~~~~~~**_

 **HONG KONG**

 **23:46 HRS**

 **Thursday, Early December**

FOR a city that is so brightly lit, there were many dark and seedy places throughout the metropolis.

In one such obscure hole in the wall below a late-night noodle restaurant, a young tanned-skinned Asian man checked over his shoulder. Wearing black jeans, black leather jacket over a black hoodie, and sporting skateboarding sneakers, he fit right into the urban youth that passed him on the street. Pausing just above a set of stairs that led to a floor below the steam spewing windows of the shop, he gave one more glance to the public.

 _Degenerates._ He thought. While he wore garb like them, spiked his hair in their fashion, he likened it to camouflage, using it to blend in and avoid detection by those who would like to get their hands on what he carried in the small of his back. Normally he preferred to wear the spartan and tactical attire of his adopted clan, but this particular job required a bit of intrigue, some subversion. Not because he was afraid of anyone who might dare put a knife in his face, but rather because he recognized the importance of his package.

But he wasn't here for any of them, he was here for the doctor. Turning away from the bustling night life, he adjusted the hood against the back of his neck to rise the cover a little more before he stepped quickly down the stairs.

At the bottom landing, where a thin puddle of scummy looking water occupied the right half, he stopped before a scarred metal door. Painted red and under a single light, it had all the atmosphere of a place that catered to the depraved and sordid desires of humanity. He stood eye level with the small sliding window and knocked.

A moment later, and the small rectangular slot was pulled back to reveal another set of steely eyes. For a few seconds the two men stared at each other, neither flinching from the stalemate. Finally, the man inside nodded, and the door budged at the sound of a heavy bar being moved aside.

The door opened before the younger man, and he crossed the threshold into a sparsely lit room of tobacco smoke and the sound of the local news on a radio. He spared the doorman a glance as he passed by him, a husky, older light-skinned Asian man of subtle muscle in black slacks and a grey tank top. Under his close cropped salt and pepper haircut he nodded in return, an old acquaintance.

The younger man continued on through, walking past a green table where four other men were playing cards, a recess in the wall where another slept with a old 30's gangster style hat pulled over his face, and a middle-aged Chinese woman in a suggestive version of a traditional Cheongsam dress.

He ignored them all as he entered a short hallway, the closed doors to other rooms on either side betrayed no hint of being occupied. Without hesitation he went to the one on his right, turned the knob, and pushed his way in.

Inside, there was a round wooden table, bare under the hanging light. A few other people hung back in the shadows, a woman, and two men, one of them very large and muscular.

"Tozawa." Spoke one of the men in greeting. Of Japanese and Thai parentage, 'Tozawa' was the only name he ever gave anyone to call him by. His mixed ethnicity had been a source of conflict during his youth, which had served to carve him into a detached personality. It was when he found meaning and purpose in Hong Kong that his disposition was channeled into something more significant.

"Chao." Tozawa returned with a slight nod as he approached the table but made no other move. Chao was another acquaintance he had met in Hong Kong a few times. He was Chinese, around the same age, and was notable for the long braid stemming from the back of his otherwise clean-shaven head. Something most did not so easily see, was the tribal dragon tattoo that covered his back. A mark of the dojo he had trained in for most of his life. Two years ago during a mission that required a bit of figurative and literal 'wet-work', Chao had shown him, and the men had bonded.

"Good to see you back in Hong Kong." Chao began in Cantonese with a small grin. "It would seem that the urban culture suits you." Stepping into the light, Tozawa could see that he was also dressed in civilians, cargo khakis with a denim blue button-up shirt.

"Not as much as you I think." Tozawa responded in kind, gesturing briefly to his friend. "Though I much prefer something more practical."

Chao nodded with a laughing grunt, thinking of the pride and discipline he felt while wearing their proper uniform.

"You have something?" he asked, expecting to be confirmed.

Tozawa hesitated to answer, "Is that the Doctor?" Pointing to the woman, he could now tell that she was white, at least in her fifties, and wearing white jeans with a yellow jacket.

"It is." Chao affirmed, glancing back to her for a moment. "Did you manage to find what she was looking for?"

While he didn't know or trust the two strangers in the room, Tozawa trusted Chao. Reaching around to the small of his back, he pulled out a large orange envelope, roughly an inch and a half thick. He placed it on the table gently, as if its contents were fragile. Producing a pocket knife from the cuff of his sleeve, he sliced open the end and extracted a translucent rectangular case.

At the sight of the object, the woman at last came forward, her eyes locked on the case. She placed her hands on the table as she continued to stare, leaning her head to hover above.

Tozawa tilted his head upon seeing the woman's face, and he stifled a gasp when he realized he recognized her.

"I know you." he said in English with no small trace of reverence. "You're the doctor who hired us?"

Lifting her face to meet his, her expression remained neutral.

"Yeah, Dr. Quinn Darien, that's me. Tell me how you got this."

Tozawa was taken aback. This woman was a legend to many, an icon. The fact that his group had been on assignment for her, and that he had been the one to carry it out and meet her overwhelmed him.

"We found it where you suggested, in a deep cavern on Okinawa."

Quinn nodded silently, looking back down to the object, marveling at the patch of yellowed parchment contained therein.

Chao could not help but ask: "Why did you request our help in acquiring this artifact, Dr. Darien? couldn't you have gotten it yourself?"

She straightened her back with a muffled groan, and gave her company a wry face.

"Not without attracting too much attention to myself. That island is crawling with Kaiju devotees as it is, they would have swarmed me like flies on crap. Plus, I am getting a little old to go spelunking."

Darien reached out to touch the case with her right fingers, "Not to mention the fact that I'm not the only one who'd like to get their hands on this, I just happen to be one of the goof guys."

Tozawa narrowed his eyes in contempt. "You speak of the Red Bamboo?"

"Yup." Darien said bringing the encasement up to her face for closer inspection. "My sources tell me they've got people on the ground hunting for this. So I needed people who could do this quietly, and without knee problems. People I knew I could trust."

"Then you have chosen wisely." Chao said with pride. "You know that we are honored to offer you any assistance."

She gave him a smirk, "If there's one thing to be said about you Battra disciples, you're integrity is second to none."

As followers of the Dark Brother, Battra disciples swore to a strict code of honor. While Mothra's followers produced peace in the sunlight, they served justice in the shadows. Being ardent warriors for the health and welfare of the planet, it often required some very blunt and swift measures.

"May I ask why this is so important?" Tozawa probed. "What did you want with it?"

Looking over the protected document, she fixed it with an eager grin.

"It's important because it's the only map of it's kind, absolutely invaluable. And I want it because my life's work is the Kaiju, and this little paper is the key to an unimaginable jackpot of Kaiju knowledge.

Tozawa took a step forward, his movement matched by the tall man, who closed in on Dr. Darien's hip. The man gave Tozawa a stern look, warning him not to get too close. Wearing black cargo pants, a button-up black shirt, and sunglasses, he cut an imposing figure.

"Easy James." She told her companion, "These are the good guys."

The man gave a discontented sigh. "Well ya dragged me all this way, I figured I'd get to scowl at somebody." His voice was heavy and gruff, with an American Southern accent.

"Nevermind him." Quinn said with a wave of her hand, "He's not used to dealing with people."

"You called it a map." Chao said, now looking to it with newly earned attentiveness. "What is it a map to?"

She held the case up to the light so that everybody could see. On the map was an archaic depiction of the coastlines of Europe, Africa, North and South America. With another one down at the bottom, Antarctica, where featured a few landmarks, and a notated blot.

"This gentlemen," She began, the burgeoning anticipation of an explorer in her voice.

"This is a map to **Urth**."


	2. Chapter 1: Our Damsel

_**CHAPTER 1: Our Damsel**_

 _ **NULLIUS AGER**_ **(MONSTER ISLAND)**

 **Kaiju Research Institute on Northern Scattered Island 10**

 **0731 hrs. April**

With a sleepy groan and a stretch, Faith rolled over in her bed. A tickling sensation on her face disturbed her rest, and she lazily opened her eyes. Staring her right in the face, was the puckered visage of her cat's butt. She grimaced and rolled back over, the sudden gamey taste of morning breath causing her to try and use her tongue to disperse it.

Settling her head back down into her pillow, she smiled contentedly as the warmth of the sun bathed her face and auburn hair.

 _Ah, warm sun._ She thought.

Her eyes popped open.

 _Wait…. The sun is up?_

Twisting in her blanket, she gawked at her alarm clock and saw that she was a half-hour late getting up.

"Nooooooo!"

Within a minute, she was hopping on one leg as she pulled on a sock, her jeans still unbuttoned and olive green t-shirt with a faded white tree still askew.

 _I can't be late again for professor Rajputamji… Rajputimuji…_

"GAH! I can't even pronounce that man's name in my head!"

The battle with her wardrobe finally over, she dashed into her dorm's bathroom, and looked at herself in the mirror, brown eyes appraising her hastily dressed condition. With no time to properly fix herself for the day, she grabbed a black hair scrunchie and tossed her mane into a ponytail, letting one bang hang stray.

She grabbed her backpack, put on her glasses, and clipped on her necklace. On her way to the door, she stopped to give her cat a pretend glare.

"This is all your fault Princess" She said, leaning over to rub her back and kiss the top of her head.

The female dormitory was situated on the north-east half of the third floor of the institute's main facility, the classrooms were located on the west wing of the first floor. Rounding the 2nd floor landing, her white sneakers padded down the steps alongside a window that stretched from the ceiling to the ground. Outside the branches and huge green leaves of the tropical flora pressed against the glass, reminding the students that beyond the protective walls of the Institute, lay the wild and untamed environment of Monster Island.

She was nimbly coming down the last flight of stairs, when one of the leaves lurched for her and thumped against the glass.

"BAH!" Faith threw herself against the wall clutching her chest, where she stared wide-eyed at the jerky motions of the creature's emotionless face. A trail of saliva dripping down from it's clicking mandibles, a Green Kamacuras the size of a horse watched her, antennae twitching.

Faith let out a long exhale of tension before scrunching her face up.

"Every morning Frank… It's like you freakin' recognize me."

She shook her head and turned away, taking the last few steps two at a time. The Kamacuras followed her movements until she disappeared around the corner.

The lights were shut off for the students in the amphitheater. Making the class look more like a one-man classical play than a lecture. Down on the floor, behind the podium stood an older, slightly overweight Indian man dressed in the typical college professor fashion. With graying hair, he pointed to the projection screen above his head which featured a still image of a colorful tapestry depicting a violent struggle between a cloven-hoofed Cyclops, and a dragon with a manacle around its neck.

"As we can see here," He began in British accented English. "Eyewitness accounts of Kaiju confrontations go back much farther than 1955, indeed centuries, perhaps even millennia depending on which legend you choose."

From the corner of his eye, he caught sight of the door opening on the upper balcony.

"Isn't that right Ms. Wolff?"

Like a deer stunned by headlights, Faith froze where she stood, one foot poised just a centimeter above the floor, her fellow students turning in their seats to stare at her.

"Uh…. Yes it is professor." she called out.

"Then please, amuse me Ms. Wolff, and tell us about your particular favorite." Professor Rajputamaji was known for taking delight in making examples of students.

Faith took a seat between two others who moved aside to give her space, and avoid her metaphorical spotlight. Removing her bag, she examined the dragon and Cyclops, and made her best guess as to what she was supposed to answer.

"My particular favorite would be….." She ran through a dozen examples in her head. "…Would be the battle between the griffin and the centaur that we learned of from the 'Golden Voyage of Sinbad' legend."

The professor pursed his lips and pressed the button on his remote control. The picture above shifted to one of an oil painting of the very battle Faith had just mentioned, the details below revealing that it had been discovered in Baghdad by British archeologists in late 1899. In the scene, the griffin's wings were flared as it lashed out with its beak for the other's throat. Meanwhile, the Centaur was using one hand on the griffin's neck to keep it away, while its other hand wrestled with one of the talons. In the bottom right corner, were a small group of people meant to be the famous Persian adventurer Sinbad and his company.

"Well chosen Ms. Wolff. But you're still late."

Faith grumbled as her shoulders sunk.

A short while later, as the class was coming to an end, the professor closed his presentation by asking some rhetorical questions to his students.

"So how then, are we do parse legend from truth? Myth from fact? The answer may be that for some cases we'll simply never know, while other cases, like the discovery of the ancient city of Troy can be proved to have happened.

"What then would we need? Some fossilized example of two beasts like we saw in the Persian painting, locked in mortal combat? Could we locate some sealed-off chamber on a Grecian island filled with treasures and the skull of a mammoth horned hominid?"

"To summarize; even as we live in a world where monsters wage war against each other in major cities, there still remains more mysteries about them than known quantities. Despite Godzilla, Ymir, Kong, El Gusano, and Rhedosaurus, we must not then take every fable and rumor as evidence, just as-"

"Can't hurt to investigate though."

The students turned in unison to where the voice had come from, a single standing figure leaning against the back wall.

"The journey itself is often just as meaningful as the destination."

The voice was an adult female, but she remained in the shadow. Professor Rajputamaji cocked his eyebrow at the brazen flouting of his rank in the classroom.

"While your philosophical observation may be true, it is not always the most practical path, miss…?"

"Oh, no need to be so formal Raj…" Stepping away from the wall and proceeding down the stairs to the floor, all in the room were shocked to see the founder of the Institute, Dr. Quinn Darien had joined them, and a collective gasp went up from the crowd.

"Dr. Darien!" The professor sputtered, completely taken off-guard by the presence of the famous researcher. While she was no longer had any official authority at the KRI, nor had she been around for years, no-one had the temerity or lack of respect to remind her of that. Least of all a man that she had hired herself.

"What brings you to visit us today?"

"Oh just checking in on how things are going." She said as she casually made her way down the steps. "I'm always curious about what the next generation of Kaijuologists are up to."

She joined him at the lectern, glancing at his slideshow on a laptop screen. She hit the back arrow key to go through the previous slides one by one.

"Each one of these pictures is more than just an artifact, or a interesting bit of human/Kaiju history. I want you to remember that discovering and documenting things like these represent weeks or even months of research, planning, and expedition. There is a story, a legend if you will, behind them all. This hand painted mural from the Great Pyramid of Giza, where a student of the KRI just like all of you discovered an illustration of Varan dating back thousands of years, was a project that took six months to complete. Almost a year counting the preparation."

On the slide, was a cutaway portion of the 20-foot painting, where a figure who very distinctly resembled Varan could be seen with pitch black eyes hovering over a human city.

"Working off of a single rumor from a tomb raider, everyone told that student to that it was a hoax, pure fiction. But he went to go make sure for himself. And now we have proof positive that Varan had a history with mankind long before his rumble with Quetzalcoatl across Central America."

"So what I think Professor Rajputamaji was going to say…" Quinn gave her colleague a playfully hesitant glance, to which he simply nodded. "…Is that while you should be smart about what leads you decide to follow, you should never be afraid to go for that long shot, because you never now what you might hit. Thank you."

Her conclusion was received with an appreciative applause from the students. She turned to Rajputamaji and whispered something into his ear before patting him on the back and heading out. Still a bit surprised by what she had said, he nonetheless began to clap as the class ended.

As the lights came on and the students began to file out of the auditorium, Faith was just repacking her notebooks into her bag when the professor's voice called up to her.

"Ms. Wolff, join me down here a moment won't you?"

 _Oh boy._ She thought, _Here comes the last of my warnings._ Making her way down, she could see that he was waiting with an expectedly displeased look on his face.

"Look professor, I'm sorry about being late again, I must've-"

He cut her off with a raised palm, "Save it for another time Wolff, Right now there's a different conversation that needs to happen."

Faith became visibly confused, "What do you mean?"

"Right now, you need to go to the administration office."

"The office!?" She protested, "Why?"

Rajputamaji shrugged his shoulders, "Beats me."

The Administration office was located in an adjacent building, connected by a trio of covered catwalks on each floor. The structure was made of blast-proof materials to handle the at-times violent tropical weather, and the occasional curiosity of the locals. Like any building of its type, it was mostly the offices of paper pushers, with the occasional lounge area. On _Nullius Ager_ however, these common areas contained various bit and pieces of exotic decorations. A seat carved out of a thorn from a Kamacuras queen, an array of colorful and spotted flowers, and even the exoskeletons of a Red and Green Kamacuras posed with beer steins in their claws.

Faith passed through one of these areas on her way towards the main desk, the central hub of the building, where several secretaries and administrators bustled about with paperwork and packages in hand. She was approaching the desk when the attendant, an older woman of Spanish nationality, pinched the receiver of a telephone between her cheek and shoulder, and pointed to the hallway to the right.

Faith eyed the path suspiciously, _That way leads to the president's office._ But the secretary seemed to know she was expected, and gestured again to the hall.

"Mr. Darien is waiting for you in his office." She said in her thick Castilian accent.

Thanking her as she went, Faith readied herself for whatever her purpose here was. She couldn't recall having done anything deserving of reprimand at this level, the Institute president was hardly the one concerned with meting out punishment for student tardiness. The only thing she could think of, was when she and her boyfriend tried to get some candid footage of Anguirus over on Ogasawara. She had wanted to study him and get some stock footage for her major thesis, he was curious about any fossils or relics that might be found in his den.

The effort had been met with mixed results. Anguirus remained nestled into the loose soil of the floor of his lair, and getting around him to explore the habitat more closely was far too dangerous. The monster could have woken up at any time and crushed or buried them in a second.

Stopping in front of the double doors, she paused to glance at all the framed pictures of Kaiju from all around the world. A show pamphlet from the Gorgo circus, a newspaper headline about a monster in Crater Lake, and a shot of Quinn Darien smiling as she leaned over the railing of the Calico.

She steeled her nerve, and knocked on the door.

"Come in." She heard. The president Peter Darien was a friendly man, and often led students on hikes on the other islands. Even though his blond hair was turning grey, he was still possessed of his boyish sense of adventure, and took pleasure in fostering it in budding Kaiju researchers.

One time while trekking on Adona, they had to take cover as Rodan was circling near by. As they took shelter in a cave, Mr. Darien had spent the whole time telling them about Rodan's weekly habits and routine. He made him sound like a cantankerous old man who didn't like kids on his lawn.

She opened the door and stepped inside to an office she had never seen before. There was next to no empty space in the room, filled with artifacts and decorations from wall-to-wall, it looked more like the storage room of a museum. Mr. Darien was sitting at his desk behind a collection of photos, a few Kaiju models, and few open file folders. Behind him, was the wall-spanning window that oversaw the bay and most of Adona Island, where 'The Brother Who Burns' fumed night and day, his aunt Dr. Darien stood gazing outward.

"Ah! Ms. Wolff! I'm excited to see you!" He stood and came around to greet her with a handshake. He wore suit pants with a white shirt and tie, but moved like he was in cargo shorts and a tee.

"You are?" Faith asked, brushing her lone bang back into place behind her ear.

"Absolutely." Peter said, "This is a great day for the institute and our life's work." He left her to stand next his desk and gesture to his aunt.

"I believe you're already acquainted with my aunt Quinn."

Faith smiled, a bit incredulous he would even ask such a thing to a student here. "Of course, who on this island doesn't know who she is?"

"Saw the movie, read the book did you?" Quinn turned away from the window and gave her a smirk with a gleam in her eye. "Don't suppose you're a fan of the cartoon, are you?"

"Not really. They got Titanosaurus' powers all wrong."

Quinn huffed in agreement, "You're telling me. I yelled at them for months to fix it, but the studio execs were determined that he needed laser beam eyes." Shaking her head in disgust, Quinn came over to the front of the desk and leaned back against it.

"Well, since you must be wondering why you're here, I'll get straight to the point. There's an adventure out there, and I'd like you to go on it."

Faith understood the words, but couldn't comprehend what she meant by them. "You… you want me to go on an adventure? Me?"

"Yes, you." Reaching back, Quinn grabbed one of the folders on the desk, and examined it. "Says here you're majoring in Kaiju documentation." From the folder, she extracted a hand-drawn sketch of a family of Gorgo sunning themselves on the beach. "With a minor in media relations."

"I want to make a series about them. Show them to the world like animals, not city-smashing monsters." Faith tightened the grip on the strap of her backpack. "They're a part of this world just as much as we are."

Quinn raised an eyebrow at her last statement. "I agree. It also seems like you're not afraid to get your hands dirty for a little field work."

"Well it's not like you can just throw some bread and have the Kaiju come up to you." Faith chuckled. "Unless maybe an Ookondoru."

"I wonder then Faith…" Quinn said as she thumbed through another page. "Does the ambition for your chosen field have anything to do with family history?"

Knowing immediately what Dr. Darien was talking about, Faith didn't try to hide it.

"Because my great grandfather is Carl Denham? Explorer and film maker who came to _Nullius Ager_ in 1933? Sure maybe a little."

"Good. I'm a fan of his work." Closing the folder and handing it to Peter, Quinn scrutinized her with a tilted head.

"How would you like to follow in his footsteps? Go somewhere beyond the knowledge of modern man and into the heart of mystery and peril? Because such a place exists, and I'm putting together a team to go there and discover whatever there is to find. And since I see a bit of myself in you, and you've got a bit of pedigree, I'd like to offer you a spot on that team. I think it'd be right up your alley."

It sounded too good to be true, the legendary Quinn Darien giving her the chance of a lifetime. Sure there'd be risks involved in this line of work, but how could it be any riskier than living on an island full of giant monsters?

"Alright," Faith began with building confidence. "Where do we start?"

Quinn smiled, "First, I put the rest of the team together. Then, the team goes through some preparation. Then hopefully by September, maybe even August, we launch."

That was months away, through the rest of Spring and on the other side of Summer. _Man, she wasn't kidding about these things taking months to get ready for._

"Why such a long prep-time?" Faith had to ask. "Where is this place?"

The older Darien crossed her arms, "It'll take time to lock down the rest of the team, gather resources and equipment, arrange logistics, not to mention get you guys up to speed mentally and physically.

As for where it is…"

Coming away from the desk, Quinn pondered how to properly articulate her thoughts.

"Let's just say… where you're going, is separated more by epoch than it is geography."

"Whoa…"

"Whoa indeed." Walking past Faith to exit the room, Quinn put a hand on her shoulder. "I'll be in touch."

Faith glanced back when the door closed behind the woman, reeling from what she had just agreed to. She turned her head to see Peter Darien sitting on the edge of his desk, a beaming grin on his face.

He spread his arms in a gesture of congratulations, "Adventure awaits."


	3. Chapter 2: Recruiting the Men

_**~~~~~~~~~~CHAPTER 2 "OUR LEADING MEN"~~~~~~~~~~**_

Pacing determinedly through the halls of the central corridor of the Academic building of the KRI, a young woman in a steel grey skirted business suit maneuvered through the constantly shifting crowd of students. She adjusted her platinum blond hair affixed in a tight bun, and took a deep breath to calm her nerves.

Entering the massive foyer, she locked eyes on the front doors where students entered and exited. The doors themselves were constructed to be locked-down in the event of a Kaiju incident, a back-up in case the outer safeguards failed.

Just as she approached the waiting spot, the multinational delegation was being escorted inside. Surrounded by professional security guards, several well-dressed men and women entered, taking in with awe the small island of civilization nestled in amongst monsters.

One of them, an older swarthy man in a western business suit and a maroon turban pointed to the center of the hub, where the ceiling to floor terrarium contained the Green Kamacuras.

Sensing the opportunity, she made her move.

"Welcome to _Nullius Ager_ Lady and Gentlemen!" Her tamed but evident North Carolina accent greeting them warmly. "My name is Tawny Snow, and I'll be your guide today. I hope you all had a safe trip."

Due to the unique circumstances of visiting Monster Island, civilian transportation was prohibited, both for the safety of the passengers and to avoid provoking the Kaiju. No helicopter could enter the airspace without an armed escort, only a few ships were permitted to enter the protected waters. Submarines however, had proven to be the most efficient method of reaching the islands, and it was in a private submersible craft that the potential investors arrived in today. It had docked at the underground port on NS10, and along with the regular assortment of supplies, it brought the newest round of wealthy individuals the Institute was hoping could make some worthwhile contributions.

Four had dared make the journey, an Indian manufacturing millionaire, a British oil company CEO, A Russian with diverse interests, and a Silicon Valley tech entrepreneur. Each for reasons of their own had decided to come, and they now stood at the threshold of the most dangerous place on the planet.

The Briton, a blond woman in her late 40's, dressed in a white suit, stepped through the security detail to extend a hand to the guide.

"The trip was safe enough, considering we came within a stone's throw of one of the locals."

"Ah, so I heard." Tawny had just come from the final briefing with Peter Darien, and was told that during their approach to the island, they had come within tentacle reach of Gezora. Fortunately, the countermeasures aboard the EDF-donated Calico II kept the kraken from attacking.

"Well Ms. Dunsworth, we certainly couldn't keep a facility here if the commute was too dangerous. Mr. Valchenkov, Mr. Misra, Mr. Edwards, let me thank you all for coming, and since you've already met one of the residents, let me introduce you to our pet, Frank!"

Tawny motioned over to the terrarium, wherein the Kamacuras perched itself on a branch. Leading the group closer, she noticed that the Russian was more interested in the architecture than the giant praying mantis on the other side of the glass.

"Frank here," She began "Is a member of the Northern Scattered islands species of Kamacuras. This green variety can grow to about 10-feet tall, and is omnivorous. Unlike his red cousins on the Southern Scattered islands, who are less in numbers, but grow up to 20-feet tall. They are primarily carnivores, but not estranged to cannibalism. Also unlike our friend here, the red Kamacuras also sports a long, spear-like appendage on it's right arm in place of grasping claw."

"Do you have a red one here as well?" The Indian asked.

"Oh no." Tawny responded immediately. "The Red are much more aggressive, and don't adjust very well to captivity. We've tried it."

The guests let out a collective _ooohhh…_

An old man passed behind them as they continued to marvel at the creature. He wore a classic professor's attire, tweed jacket over a slightly faded red vest. Ambling along with the aid of a lacquered wooden cane, he looked a bit like Charles Darwin, a large white beard protruding from his chin, his hair pulled back into a long braided ponytail.

Carrying his worn brown leather briefcase in his left hand, he made little deviation from his path through the throng of people. A few nodded politely in recognition, and he returned the small gesture. But nothing slowed him down as he made his way to the elevator on the side of the entrance to the west wing.

Reaching his destination he pressed the call button. He grunted discontentedly when the doors did not open immediately, a wad of 70 year-old phlegm building in the back of his throat. When they finally did open, he hustled inside and pressed for the 3rd floor.

Upstairs in the male dormitory, two roommates sat across from one another, the table covered in a scattering of junk food, dog-eared books, newspaper clippings, and an action-figure of a Japanese superhero who wears a cape and rides a motorcycle.

"I'm telling you man." The one sitting nearest to the door said, leaning back in his swivel chair and talking through a mouthful of lo mein. He wore a maroon zip-up hooded jacket over a grey t-shirt, and blue jeans with tattered cuffs. His legs were propped up over the edge of the table, and John Tarbtano had a very important point he wanted to make.

"Werewolves are totally plausible!"

"No they are not." His roommate objected with drawn-out pronunciation. Hiding himself under a large forest hunting camouflage hooded sweatshirt.

"Think about it." Tarbtano continued despite the objection, swirling his fork in the noodle-filled carton. "All we're talking about is a biological transmutation, it's not like it's creating something out of thin air. We know from the Venusian Revelations that they unleashed some kind of wacky energy on the Earth that has the power to transform. And, we know that people are just as vulnerable to this stuff as the Kaiju. Sorcerers like Pendragon and Sokurah were able to harness it like we do electricity and nuclear energy."

"Whoa, Whoa…" The roommate stopped him, "Those guys are myths!"

"Maybe!" Tarbtano countered, "Maybe those guys are myths. Alright, let's imagine that some virulent form of lycanthropy is actually a virus or infection. Super-rare, maybe only certain people are susceptible to it, or it has a hard time surviving outside of a human host. Man comes into contact with infectious agent, agent causes atavistic traits to manifest, agent can only activate these changes for certain periods of time, man reverts to normal during the day."

John's fellow occupant raised a dubious eyebrow. "So what's all the woo about 'full moons' and 'silver bullets'?"

"Well…" John took a second to concentrate, trying to fit the famous lore into a practical reality.

"Maybe the agent can't manifest without light, but direct sunlight is too much. Light reflected off the moon does the job. As for silver? Well maybe there's some part of its chemical make-up that that makes it fatal to the agent."

For about a minute, the two of them sat in silence; John taking another fork-wrapping mouthful of his food, the other thinking over the notions.

"I mean… _{chew…swallow}_ … It's not like we live on an island with a bunch of giant monsters walking around or anything."

"Tell you what John, you bring me a video of a werewolf causing havoc on the streets of a major city, and we'll revisit this conversation."

John Tarbtano took his legs off the table and leaned in closer to his friend.

"We talking " _Underworld_ " werewolves, or " _Lon Cheney Jr._ " here?"

Before John could get his answer, a knock on the door drew both of their attention. Getting up from his seat, Tarbtano walked over and placed his hand on the doorknob.

"Who is it?"

" _Kto vy dumayete, chto eto_?"

John smiled, and opened the door without further hesitation. Standing on the other side, was an elderly professor with cane and briefcase in hand.

"Professor Obruchev! You're back." John exclaimed before pushing the door the rest of the way open.

Professor Vladimir Obruchev spoke in serviceable, but partially broken English, and he looked upon his student with kindly eyes brown eyes. "Yes, Johnny, my visit home was pleasant, but the work continues. Do you mind if I borrow you for a few minutes?"

"Not at all." Tarbtano patted his pocket to make sure he did in fact have his keys on him, and before stepping out, gave a quick wave to the roommate.

Proceeding down the hallway, Vladimir waited until they had come to the bridge that crossed over into the research wing of the building. There, they paused under the sunlight that beamed down from the glass windows above. The professor began to say something, but instead he choked down a frustrating notion.

"What is it professor?" John asked him, concerned for the septuagenarian's health. "Is everything alright?"

Obruchev waved the worry away like an irritating smell, " _Da, moy mal'chik._ For a man my age this is to be expected. You, I have come to talk about you."

"Me?" John had no idea what his mentor could be about to reveal, "Is this about funding for my project?" Some months ago, he had applied for a grant to take a trip to the American northwest/southwest Canada, to study the Skinwalker legends and traditions. It was his secret dream to discover the skeleton of a Lycanthrope. Plenty of Kaiju remains to be found, but no-one so far has found werewolf remains.

"Unfortunately _nyet_." the professor said, shaking his head. "But nonetheless, it is something that could make your entire career in a single stroke. An expedition that many people would jump at the chance to be on, _moy mal'chik._ "

"Sounds serious. What ah… what's the deal?"

Obruchev grabbed his cane and bid John to follow him with a flick of his fingers. "You are aware that Dr. Darien has likewise returned to the Institute?"

"Yeah, she dropped in on Rajputamaji's class earlier." He didn't quite know where this was going, but John figured if there was any expedition that involved the famous Quinn Darien, it must be something big.

Continuing on into the section of the floor where professor Obruchev's office was located, they passed a large framed picture of Dr. Kyohei Yamane.

"Much like me, she has reached the stage where she must leave the mountain climbing and… _chto takoye faza?_ daring-do, to the younger generations. Just recently, she has gathered information to her satisfaction of a theory which I will not speak aloud here, but, has tremendous implications. She has asked me if I knew of any aspiring young individual that might be interested in taking part in a very exciting, very secret, very perilous adventure."

Reaching his office door, Vladimir unlocked it, turning to John as he opened it.

"Naturally, I thought of you."

John was surprised by the torturous withholding of the truth behind it all, and a bit perturbed by the fact that when his mentor thought of sending someone on a dangerous mission, he thought of John Tarbtano.

"Why do I get the 'exciting, secret, and perilous' mission? Why don't I get the 'easy, luxurious, and rewarding' mission?"

The office was well maintained, a visual signature of professor Obruchev's meticulous attention to detail. A Persian rug on the floor, bookcases stuffed top to bottom, several old maps of different global regions, and a desk where each item on it was placed in a precise manner according to function. The one extravagant feature of the room, was the fossil skeleton of a velociraptor on the left side of the desk, it's claws clutching a copy of Plato's _The Cave_ for it to read.

The professor set his briefcase down and gave John an appraising look. "Tell me _moy mal'chik_ , is there any other student in this institute with the peculiar wish to locate physical evidence of _Lycanthropus_? Hmm? It reminds me of another student who came to their teacher, with fantastic ideas about mythological creatures being real. You should know who I mean, she founded this institute."

Tarbtano was taken a bit back by the comparison, but still, even he knew his objective was leaning more towards the fanciful side.

"To put it more bluntly John," The professor continued; "here is the thinking box…"

Obruchev created an imaginary cube with his hands in front of him, then reached over to his left and waved his hands like he was drying them.

"And here is your thinking."

"Thanks?"

"Take it as a compliment John, it is what sets you apart."

Settling down into his imported, high-backed chair, the professor took out an envelope from his breast pocket and gave it to John. Without a word he opened it and read the letter. It was from Dr. Darien, and explained that she was putting together an expedition team to explore a region that she had found more concrete evidence for the day prior. She was reaching out to her circle of trusted colleagues for potential recruits. She had sent a similar letter to Prof. Challenger, and was scouting a few people herself. It didn't mention much in the way of where in particular the mission was or what she expected to learn from it, but she described it as: "The greatest treasure of knowledge since Princess Salno told the world about King Ghidorah's first visit to our solar system".

"Dr. Darien is here today." Obruchev interrupted once he saw that John had finished reading. "She's meeting with her candidates, and beginning preparations. You can meet her if you like."

John handed the letter back, "This sounds like a big deal. Are you guys sure you don't wanna send some of those mutant super-soldiers instead?"

" _Bylo by khorosho_ … Their agents are only deployed under official conditions. Darien wants to keep this project under the radar. Plus, we mere humans have been at this long before the mutants. This is a once in a lifetime opportunity, I would hate to think John, that you are too timid to make that choice that so few of us get to make."

John Tarbtano knew perfectly well the professor was provoking his manly honor. And it was working. While he had never quite been _Indiana Jones_ , he did come from a military family, and did feel the call to glory stirring in his soul. He crossed his arms, giving Obruchev a stiff upper lip.

"How bad can it be?"

* * *

 **ELSEWHERE**

Between wide leaves of vibrant green, a Red Kamacuras stalked through the bush. It carried its body low to the ground, its legs in such coordination that it seemed to glide along more than walk. Searching for prey, it had no way to know that it was currently in the sights of another, more insidious predator. A rustle in the greenery drew the creature's attention, just a flash of movement that caused a single stem to whip back and forth.

The Kamacuras tilted its head, curious that the disturbance might be a sign of food. Red Kamacurai are voracious eaters, and the anticipation of a meal caused this one to salivate, mandibles already making small chewing motions. It approached carefully, shifting its body forward while stepping lightly, the spear appendage cocked and poised to strike out.

Suddenly, to the left was another rustle, another sound of scurrying. The Kamacuras gave out a curious chittering as it adjusted direction, fixating in. The twig wiggled again, and the creature lunged for it, trying to catch whatever had been so unlucky.

But the tables were turned almost as suddenly, and it was the Kamacuras who found itself in the clutches of death. The Man-Eater Plant lashed out as soon as the unwitting arthropod fell for the lure, and wrapped its appendages around it. The prey tried to struggle out, but very quickly found itself smothered by the thick clinging leaves, and swept off its feet, pulled back into the waiting hidden maw within the dense brush. Wailing in panic all the way, the Kamacuras was swallowed-up without much resistance.

"Hmm… Subject employs complex deception methods…"

Peering down through the glass dome into the large terrarium, a young man with short brown hair, glasses, and dressed in a lab coat jotted down a few notes on his clipboard. The Leeds accent of Tyler York resonated in the observation lab, below the catwalk he stood on was the 20-meter biodome, which had contained the adolescent Red Kamacuras but primarily housed his Man-Eater specimen.

"Specimen 04 utilized multiple lures to entice prey into range…Must have some means of observing prey's behavior… further testing required…"

"Mr. York!"

The booming voice resonated off the ceiling of the lab, and was more than enough to startle Tyler that he nearly dropped his clipboard over the railing. Clutching his work, and pushing his glasses back up the bridge of his nose, he looked over to see an older man striding up the catwalk towards him. The man was dressed in a finely tailored black velvet smoking jacket over a matching vest and white collared shirt. Black slacks led down to polished Oxford shoes, carrying a man who filled the breast of his jacket with broad shoulders and the chest of a blacksmith. Hands that looked like they could crush coconuts swished with every marching step, one of them holding a half-spent cigar.

The man's face was no less imposing, a thick black beard that hung down to his chest framed a broad florid face. The hair was peculiar, plastered down in front in a long, curving wisp over his massive forehead. The eyes were blue-grey under great black tufts, very clear, very critical, and very masterful.

Tyler at once recognized the notorious Professor George Edward Challenger. He had called out to him in a bellowing voice, almost a roar from a man who spent so many years outdoors.

"Professor Challenger!" Tyler called back, surprised to see the KRI senior fellow in the lab. Unlike Tyler, Challenger preferred the sensation of fresh air and the feel of stone, and soil, and wood in his grip. A pack strapped to his shoulders, and some great adventure set before him. To find him striding about in this carefully crafted and maintained environment was antithetical to his character. Despite their many differences, or perhaps because of them, they had nonetheless struck a friendship during Tyler's first few years at the Institute and he considered the professor an exemplary, if lively man.

Tyler adjusted his glasses once more, making sure the vision was not the product of some defect in the lens. "What brings you down to my world? Come to see how natural research is done sans the specter of rockslides and bestial disembowelment?"

"Hardly so m'lad!" His ancestry reaching back into ancient Northumbria, Challenger's voice sung with a hearty thrum. "I've come to see if you've got the mind an'the mettle to join me on a little venture."

York met his mentor halfway and shook his hand, Tyler's own engulfed by the meaty fist of the professor. The younger man involuntarily raised an eyebrow at the notion.

"A little venture? I don't suppose you mean joining you for a banquet at the Royal Academy?"

"Ha ha!" A playful slap on Tyler's shoulder nearly knocked the glasses right off. "Those cervid-minded fools will never have me back within their walls. Don't you wish! No, I mean to invite you out into the real world, on an adventure that none but a chosen handful have the privilege to know about."

Fixing his glasses yet again, Tyler began to lead the pair of them off the pathway. "Professor please, I'm sure there are any number of starry-eyed students here who would love to go on your little holiday. Surely someone more idealistic would be better company."

"There are indeed plenty of the type, and some of them will be joining us. But I am picking you precisely because you're not like them. On this mission will be needed men of science, men of intellectual reason. I know you may not think so Mr. York, but I say you are perfectly suitable for this endeavor."

Passing by a wall of monitors, one could see various locations across the island chain in real-time, the lake of lava under Rodan's roost, the Shatters. The research hub of the facility was underground, part of the hardened redoubt in times of emergency, and it contained the bulk of the means by which staff monitored Kaiju activity. It was designed to withstand a nuclear strike on Ogasawara or Adona, a doomsday scenario to be carried out under the 1968 D.A.M. Compact.

"I appreciate the vote of confidence, but as you saw I'm in the middle of some very serious work. See, I theorize that the Man-Eater plant actually constitutes its own class of Kaiju. The largest specimen I've been able to document is almost 50-meters, and I am very certain that were it to escape the containment zone, the results would be calamitous. The one I've got here, was grown from a section I removed from another."

Challenger nodded his head and stroked his beard thinking it all over.

"All very interesting Tyler, very important work indeed. But, work that could be done by anyone with two good eyes."

They stepped through a bulkhead, and passed over the mini aquarium. The pathway hugged against the stone wall of a cavern, below them a small lake of water that was actually connected to the sea. The Gorgo pod had figured out that the space was protected, and so chose to hide their very young here. At the moment York and Challenger were walking by, a pair of Gorgo _Leaneì_ the size of ponies were laid out on an outcropping asleep.

"You're being wasted here." Challenger said as they stepped through the bulkhead on the opposite side, into the office area. "You would be better served out in the field where you can make real observations, not these pets in a box."

That was a variable that had occurred to York, he never knew how much of what he saw was impacted by the fact that the specimens were in captivity. Examining Kaiju in the wild, in their natural habitats was where the most valuable findings lay. Begrudgingly, he began to come around to the fact that the professor was correct, that the next level in his work required leaving the lab. Otherwise his projects were threatened by stagnation and artificial limitations.

"What kind of expedition are you proposing?" Tyler asked, his resistance worn down.

"Ah! An expedition of awesome and fantastic consequence. Dr. Darien believes she has evidence of a biosphere long removed from the world we know. A more perfect assignment for someone of your specialty does not exist on the surface of the Earth!"

Challenger turned on a dime and stopped Tyler with an open palm, and pointed to where a map of the world hung on the wall.

"You see that Tyler? That's where the future of your career awaits you. Not confined to this subterranean labyrinth where you study life through a glass pane. Join us I beg you, join us and you will not regret it."

Tyler York looked at the map, the thought occurring to him that his only travel outside England was to the KRI. Then he glanced down at his hands, and noticed really for the first time that they were callous-free, and betrayed a life of comfort and safety. Were these the hands of someone whose life's work was the natural world?

George Challenger saw the eyes of the younger man find resolve in some unseen mirage of realization. Tyler looked again to the map, wondering where this proposal would take him. Would it be someplace cold? Hot? Dry? Wet? Already his mind began to construct ecosystems based on different conditions, animals, plants, weather patterns. His thinking shifted from the inconvenience of it all, to the clear-cut calculations of a scientific pursuit.

"I suppose I'll need someone to water the plants."

* * *

 **ELSEWHERE**

"Alright! who's next?"

On NS-13, there existed a grassy clearing nestled in the bosom of the tropical forest. This island in particular had been partially cleared for future plans on expanding the Institute's facilities, and within a section surrounded by preliminary defensive measures, several men and women were field-testing their new baseball diamond.

The teams of international colleagues had come together around the pastime game. They were all past the student phase, and were each considered institute members, which basically gave them free-reign to pursue their desired projects. It also meant that they could take a boat out to the nearby islands for a little recreational activity. Sometimes this meant fun and games, and for others it included private fun. But on a sunny clear day like this, it meant baseball.

"Let's go Shane!" one of the women in the batting line called out, a caramel skinned Cambodian with an Anaheim Angels cap turned backward on her head.

Stepping up to home plate wearing dusty, worn jeans, beat-up sneakers, and a red and white long-sleeved shirt, Shane Redmond settled the helmet over his head, and bent over to grab the bat. Gripping the length of lacquered wood in his Toronto Blue Jays gloves, he spit out a wad of gum and focused in on where the pitcher prepared to try and strike him out. It was the middle of the 8th, one out, runners on second and third. He knew left field was the worst catch of the three outfielders, so a hit out to him could possibly score a double.

Shane Redmond was a lean young man, a son of Vancouver far away from his native element. Of average height, he was of excellent athletic condition after a youth of playing sports and a few years in the Canadian Army. After being discharged, he had went right after his dream of working for the Kaiju Research Institute and traveling the world to uncover new mysteries. His chosen field was lore & legend, and he absorbed stories from different cultures about all kinds of monsters, from Loch Ness and Mokele Mbembe, to Cornish sea serpents and Egyptian scourges.

At the moment however, he was concentrating on the legend of being the first man to score a triple on Monster Island.

He cranked his neck and squatted slightly, methodically swinging the bat to rehearse the motion. Settling into his comfort zone, he watched closely, the pitcher winding-up, and throwing what he quickly decided was a curve-ball.

Shane let muscle memory react, and swinging with a clear follow-through, he felt the bat strike the ball just the way he had practiced a thousand times. He knew he had nailed the hit, and immediately began to sprint towards first base. As he closed in on the corner, his peripheral vision noted that his teammate was likewise about to get home, he also realized that no one was rushing to stop them.

As he stepped a passing foot on first base, he saw that they outfielders were staring at the back fence. He had in fact become the first man to hit a triple on Monster Island, in doing so, he had also become the first to hit a homer into the jungle.

"Sshhhhhhhhhhit." he cursed under his breath.

"You're getting it!" the centerfielder said in his Chicago accent, pointing to Shane.

"Right after I take my bases!" He laughed in return, jogging past second.

Reaching home, Shane made a show of strutting up to home plate like Ric Flair.

"Greatest batter on Monster Island baby!" He sung, stepping onto the base with a declaritive "Wooooo!"

But with his celebratory lap over, now he had a more daunting task ahead of him. He tossed the helmet aside as he trotted over to the wall, solid steel with beams going across the inside that he used to make his way up.

The outfielder that had called him out watched with nervousness, "Hey, man, I was just joking! We can get another ball."

"Don't worry!" Shane called back, "I'll get it." Straddling over the top, he lowered himself down as far as he could until dropping the rest of the way. He landed with a bend in the knees and froze in position, scanning the surroundings for any sign of danger. The island had been selected for construction partly because of it's lack of a large Green Kamacuras population, but that didn't mean one couldn't be lurking five-feet away. Though they were the smaller of the two breeds, the Green ones broke from arthropod tradition and actually hunted in packs. If you saw the one in front, it was already too late.

Failing to sense anything to warn him off, Shane stepped gingerly through the foliage, careful not to disturb the brush more than absolutely necessary. On this side of the wall the jungle was surprisingly quiet, like he had crossed through a portal from civilization into the Cambrian period. After all, if there remained any place on the planet that could resemble such a time, this was it.

Shane spotted a patch of freshly disturbed soil, where the ball had first come down. He was able to follow the trail of its bouncing for several meters until at last he was able to spy the white orb where it lay in front of a rocky wall.

"There you are… let's not disturb any of the local color shall we?" He muttered under his breath.

With his left foot forward, he leaned down, smiling as his fingers wrapped around the ball. He noted that other than a little dirt smudges, it was otherwise perfectly fine.

"My lucky ball."

He must have spoken louder than he meant to, because an eye the size of a dump-truck opened in front of him.

"Ooooooh-no…"

The sound of trees groaning and branches breaking behind him drew his attention in a flash. The end of a massive grey-scaled tail came down between him and the way he had come, completely blocking the path.

The monster loosed a growl, lifting its prodigious head off the ground higher and higher until Shane's neck was nearly at a 90° degree angle.

Since Gorosaurus rarely caused any trouble, the staff didn't pay that much mind to him. Thusly, no-one had bothered to notice when he swam over from Ogasawara for some peace and quiet.

Trying to think of anything that could help his situation, Shane tossed the ball as far and high as he could, hoping to distract the Kaiju long enough to escape.

Gorosaurus watched the ball arc and fall, then promptly went back to glaring at the tiny human that had interrupted it's nap.

"Shoot, I was really hoping that would work."

With a sharp bark, Gorosaurus' 70-meter frame started to lean itself down, wide jaws beginning to open in Shane's direction.

"Ok…" He said, attempting to stave off panic by recalling what he knew about this particular monster.

"He's fairly average for a Kaiju, no fire breath, no flying, more or less a big lizard. All I gotta do is stay out of his mouth."

Instead of running away, which could very well lead Gorosaurus back to the others, Shane bolted to get underneath him. Surprised by the move, the kaiju moved its leg back to see where the human had gone, but saw nothing on the ground but its own footprint.

Curiosity and confusion replaced irritation, and rather than staying to figure out the strange doings of the tiny creatures, Gorosaurus elected to simply move somewhere else. Humans, in his experience, had always been more trouble than anything else, and if there was one here, there was likely more nearby.

Just as the reclusive kaiju turned to head back to the water however, he heard the faint but unmistakable sound of Rodan's war cry. Gorosaurus froze where he stood, tilting his vision skyward to see if the typically unfriendly warden of Adona was in the area.

Then the call came again, and this time he realized the sound was coming from below him.

Clinging to the bumpy, rough scales of Gorosaurus' ankles, Shane Redmond cursed the timing of the call as his phone rang out from his pocket.

"Please hang-up, please hang-up, please hang-up."

A three-pronged claw came swinging down to scratch at the stowaway, but Redmond managed to leap away just in time to avoid being crushed.

On another of the Northern Scattered islands, Dr. Quinn Darien sat at a polished wooden table in a room furnished for living quarters, her forearms resting against the edge. On the tabletop was laid her ringing phone, the speaker emitting a pleasant jingle.

Finally the other end was picked-up, but the first sounds were that of rapid breathing, followed by a hasty "Hello!?"

"Shane, it's Quinn, what are you doing? You sound out of breath."

 _[pant…..pant….]_ "Running for my life! Why what's up?"


	4. Chapter 3: Good Sunday

30

 **~~~~~~~~~~Chapter 3 "Good Sunday"~~~~~~~~~~**

 **KAIJU REASEARCH INSTITUTE**

 **SUNDAY MORNING**

The chapel was small, despite the relative population of the institute. But it was well kept and provided a comforting space for anyone who required a bit of solace or reflection. The rows of pews drunk in the sunlight streaming down from the stained glass windows, warming the benches and creating an ethereal aura as it gleamed off the polished lacquer. The red of the cushions matched the carpet running down the center isle over the hardwood floor. At the front of the room, atop a dais that came not two steps higher than the floor, was the lonely podium. The inanimate pastor of the chapel stood, a flexible microphone arm bent perpendicular across the top.

The dreamlike silence of the room was interrupted when one side of the double doors at the back opened. Shane Redmond peeked his head in, scanning for any other occupants, and finding only the podium to rebuke him for his timidity. A smart-alecky comment came to his mind, but his reverence for the situation stayed his tongue. Instead, he entered and closed the door behind him, reached over to dip his fingers into the pedestal font of holy water, making the sign of the cross over his face and chest as he bowed his head.

" _In nomine Patris, et Filii, et Spiritus Sancti_." He whispered.

With an exhale, he opened his eyes and tread down the isle, selecting a pew in the second row to seat himself. This was one of those weeks where there wasn't a proper priest to provide the Mass. So there was no one to hear his confession, lead him in prayer, or even provide the Eucharist. Not that that was at all unusual, it just bugged him. Shane sat or a few moments, his forearms leaning on the back of the pew before him.

Finally he decided he'd better do something holy or just get out. The spacing of the pews didn't exactly accommodate kneeling for prayer, so he simply clasped his hands and lowered his head. He began to recite the Lord's prayer in his mind.

 _Our Father who art in heaven. Hallowed be thy name…_

By memory he repeated the invocation, having it drilled into him from an early age in Vancouver, British Columbia. There was something about saying the prayer that part of him still felt as if he could reach out to his right and touch the leg of his father, and to his left the skirts of his mother.

 _Give us this day our daily bread, and forgive us our trespasses._

Despite all the horrible stories that had come out in the past few years, Shane had never experienced any of the things that so many were alleging had occurred at the hands of Catholic priests. His faith had never been shaken like that, but there were times he felt spiritually starved. Though he could always recall the scent of the smoke fuming from the censer, ushering in emotions of serenity and contentment.

 _For thine is the kingdom, and the power, and the glory, for ever, Amen._

Making another sign of the cross to close the prayer, Shane lifted his gaze to the window at the head of the room, a generic depiction of doves soaring into the sky selected as a non-offensive, non-denominational symbol of religious faith. For another few minutes he stared off into the miscellaneous shards of colored glass, contemplating his life; particularly where he thought it might go in the near future.

The offer of another mission for the institute Dr. Darien had contacted him about yesterday sounded exciting, and bore the prospect of tremendous adventure, discovery, and fame. It would certainly outdo what he achieved in Egypt with the Varan confirmation. If Quinn was to be believed, it would shake the very foundations of human civilization.

There was supposed to be some kind of get-together in the next few days to bring everybody together, meet who'll be going and get the ball rolling on logistics and training for the expedition. Another few months of his least favorite part of the process.

Today however, today was his day, and provided with the sacred solitude of the chapel, his mind drifted back a few years. Back to the howling winds of the Yukon with his squad, and the fatal discovery they made on the mountainside. He had watched his friends die that day. Now, Quinn expected him and Challenger to lead their own team somewhere dangerous, where they could all meet very unpleasant fates.

Shane sat in contemplation for some time, thinking over how he would arrange the training, and prepare the inexperienced members of the team for navigating through the uncharted wilderness. More than his own private quarters, the chapel helped to clarify his thoughts. This was a place where he could set aside distractions and focus his mind to whatever tasks deserved his attention. Whether it be a scientific expedition into a land of monsters, or trying his best to keep his soul in a state of grace.

Leaning back in the pew, Shane noticed a dog-eared copy of the New Testament sitting in the shelf along the back of the bench. He grabbed it and flipped to a random passage, planting his finger in the middle of a page. It was Daniel, and he spent the better part of the morning reading quietly.

* * *

 **ARBORETUM**

Spacious, but simultaneously cozy, the Institute's recreational tree park was a favored spot for the denizens. Growing under a high-domed ceiling and carved out of a mountainside, the grounds were arranged in a series of terraces, the lower one went, the taller the trees. Various styles of seating were installed, where students liked to get together during free time.

Laid out on a patch of grass under the shade of a towering fern, an implant from elsewhere on the island, Faith Wolff sat with her lunch. Her halved sandwich resting atop her backpack as she thumbed through a soft cover copy of Dr. Darien's memoir " _Age of Monsters_ " with a highlighter, outlining notes here and there. Despite the inferences people might make, Faith didn't idolize the woman like some others did. The doctor had already moved on by the time she arrived at the Institute, and played little part in any visions Faith had of herself in pursuing her passions.

Rather, the young Ms. Wolff was going through it to get a better sense of the person she'd just agreed to work for the next few months. It was certainly worth reading for any Kaiju aficionado, as far as the personal stories went. Though her occasional cynicism of Humanity could become tiresome, she never seemed to lose her hope for a future of better understanding.

Faith lifted one of her sandwich halves and took in a bite without looking away from the page, the audible crunch of the lettuce not a distraction in the least.

She was holding the sandwich aloft when a new head came down to steal a bite from it.

"Hey!" Faith cried, turning with a start to see a friendly face.

Chewing his pilfered mouthful as he sat down next to her, John Tarbtano gave her a wry grin.

"Hey sweetheart." After a swallow, he leaned over to supplicate his girlfriend with a kiss on the cheek. "Doing your research?"

"A little." Giving him a lowered brow of displeasure for the loss of one of the best parts of her lunch, as faux as it was, she nonetheless denied him the return of his affection. For now anyways.

"Just trying to figure out what kind of lady we're dealing with."

They had met yesterday afternoon, both shocked to find out they'd been elected to be on the journey.

"Obruchev said it was because I think outside the box. But I think it's because we had the guts to sneak over onto Ogasawara and visit Anguirus." John leaned back to support himself on his hands, gazing up at the branches, where the imported red squirrels leaped between the boughs.

"Plus you've got that whole legacy thing going for you."

"I suppose." She groaned. "But I don't think being related to a guy who died long before I was born is going to be a whole lot of help."

"If it helps get your foot in the door, then I say all the better."

A few tiers below them, on one of the wider terraces, a game of tag football was in play. Faith recognized the hand-made jerseys as team Rodan and team Kong. There were a number of amateur sports teams at the Institute, and typically played several different kinds, from baseball, to volleyball, to track & field. Each of them choosing a particular Kaiju to be their mascot. The closest thing the KRI had to fraternities. While Faith wasn't particularly sporty, and wasn't a part of any club, John was a member of team Titanosaurus.

"What do you think we'll discover there?" Faith wondered. "New monsters? Lost treasures? Ancient civilizations?"

"Well I haven't gotten any more information about it, but I'd say it's fairly certain we'll find new Kaiju. Other than that, who knows. Did they tell you about anybody else who's coming?"

"Nope. Just that Dr. Darien will be in touch."

"Sounds like they're keeping their cards close to their chest, wonder why."

* * *

 **NORTHERN SCATTERED ISLAND 14**

In a private meeting room, gathered around a long black wooden table, Professor Challenger, Dr. Quinn Darien, and Institute President Peter Darien examined an array of satellite images and ancient yellowed documents pinned to a wall. The room itself was Spartan, with enough chairs to surround the table, one side of the rectangular space lined with windows, the other featuring a length-spanning corkboard. The most modern item was a slightly dated and dusty flat screen TV at the head of the room.

"So are we thinking about a two-phase delivery for the team?" Asked Peter from his seat, pointing to the poster-sized photo of Antarctica.

"That seems best." Quinn, glasses lowered on the bridge of her nose, confirmed his speculation with perfect anticipation. She pinned a photocopy of the ancient map she'd obtained in Hong Kong atop the Antarctica map, roughly where she imagined the entrance was. "We take the Calico to the edge of the ice, and from there the helicopter to drop them off."

"What do you suppose this entrance looks like?" Challenger huffed, crossing his arms over his chest. "Some type of altar with pillars and stone guardians? Or a just a hole in the ice?"

"The gateway to Urth could be anything in between." She shrugged. "It's conceivable there was once a formal entrance, but god knows what it looks like now after thousands of years."

"I hate to say it aunt Quinn, but just finding or forging an opening could be a time-consuming task in itself." Peter rubbed the bridge of his nose, mentally factoring in all the extra logistical needs if simply accessing the entrance turned out to be an arduous project. Excavation equipment, machine drills, and the means to power and transport them.

"We could try ground penetrating radar." The suggestion from the typically adventurous Challenger took Quinn a bit off guard, but the idea made sense. A bit over a year prior, a research team working in the English Channel, had planted a network of electronic stakes into the sea floor, in what used to be called Doggerland, when it was still a land bridge to the European continent circa 10,000 B.C.. Acting in concert, they projected their radar into the ground and created a digital map of the layers underneath. The success of the technique had been the talk of the many in the scientific fields.

"It seems to work well enough, and can be transported without much trouble."

"We'll keep that in mind." Taking a note on the idea, Quinn stuck the small yellow square into the Antarctic poster. "What I think we need to sort out first is what kind of training we're going to need for the inexperienced."

"I imagine an assortment of the usual." Peter went through his mental checklist, acquired after approving dozens of field expeditions for the Institute. "Starting with my personal favorites, the Three-C's, climbing, camping, and conditioning."

"If half the tales about this place are true, they'll need a bloody well lot more than that." Having spent his own decades exploring hundreds of nooks and crannies of the planet not already mapped and surveyed, Professor Challenger could tell that this mission would require some preparation beyond a summer camp for teenagers.

"I'll wager you Peter, that a full basic course in several more robust disciplines will be needed. Marksmanship, survival, hand-to-hand combat, and hunting to name a useful few."

"I'm way ahead of you Georgie." Leaning down, Quinn removed three files folders from her light brown leather carry bag, sliding them across the table to the men.

"Aside from our boy Shane, I've arraigned for some specialists to take part in their drills."

Scanning through the information in the reports, both men seemed satisfied by what they read. Challenger nodded.

"Quite the resume on these fellows Quinn, especially your friend Mr. Eikenboom."

She gave him a thoughtful sigh, "If only I could send him with you guys. But you know the EDF policy on deploying their mutants."

"Speaking of mutants." His tone becoming somber, Peter closed the file he was inspecting. "Have you heard the news in China? What the Red Bamboo is doing?"

The others gave silently grim affirmation. News out of China in the past few days had been spotty, but appalling nonetheless. Reports of villages being raided by soldiers of the Communist terror group, seeking out those suspected of being mutants. Even kidnappings in larger cities for the same. Adults, teens, and children dragged out of their homes and from their families at gunpoint.

"God only knows what those monsters are doing to those poor bastards." Quinn bristled, her hatred of the ruthless organization going back to the 70's. Finally taking her own seat, memories flashed in her mind's eye of her perilous escape from one of their island bases in the south Pacific. She remembered how they beat Captain Majors and threatened to kill him if they didn't summon Titanosaurs into their waiting trap.

"Has the EDF put together any response? Or are they still too chicken-shit to disobey the UN?" She spat, a poisonous revulsion for the oversight the United Nations has of the Earth Defense Force, and the way it hamstrings it at every turn.

"Nothing so far." Her nephew lamented. "The same bureaucratic obfuscation they always churn out whenever something like this happens."

The deployment of mutant soldiers under EDF command was tightly controlled, and was only sanctioned for conventional use in the case of a Kaiju incident. Use against human opponents was considered a war crime, and protecting them came under the same laws that governed any other citizen. Unless specific authorization from the UN was granted, the EDF simply did not have the authority to go into China and start enforcing human rights. And as long as China held the sway it did in the Security Council, among other prominent positions, that permission would never be granted.

No one in the EDF was happy with this state of affairs, and many campaigns from several contributing nations had been launched to have this policy amended. But the scope of the bureaucracy was as indomitable as Godzilla himself, and had barely budged since the _Destroy All Monsters Compact_ in 1968.

"My fear…" Challenger started. "Is that sooner than later, we'll start seeing mutants in Red Bamboo uniforms. A force to counter the teams of M-Organization, ones not restricted by the law and indoctrinated in their Maoist propaganda."

Dr. Darien shook her head, refusing to give into the dreadful notion. "Should that day ever come, there's a whole lot of people who don't give a damn the UN says, who will put a stop to it."

Peter however, did not consider the idea with the same optimism. "And thus we will have, the first war between mutants. I wonder how many, normal and enhanced, will die? It'll be like the introduction of the machine gun onto the battlefield, a massacre, a new world war."

"Enough of this dour conversation, we should get back to matters at hand." Sweeping aside the gloomy air between them with a gesture of his arm, Challenger dragged out a sheet of his own from inside his jacket's breast.

"There is of course the matter of procuring the necessary rights to anything that's discovered there."

The current KRI president knew he was right in thinking ahead. Antarctica, while divided among multiple countries, technically belonged to no-one. The legal status of anything of value discovered on it or under it, would undoubtedly create a massive international fracas. And that was just the interest of the various States that planted a flag on the frozen continent, never mind the machinations of corporations. The likes of Bio-Major, Taos Mammon, Rolisica Pharmaceuticals, they would all chomp at the bits for the commercial rights to mine or harvest some new exotic resource.

"It was my hope to handle as much of this under the radar as possible." Peter explained, giving them both a conspiratorial glance. "The less people outside the project who know about it the better, I think."

"Probably a good idea, given how close the location of the map came to falling into the wrong hands."

Quinn recalled the effort she had gone through in researching the map, and the ever-present feel that someone was looking over her shoulder. Since the discovery of King Caesar's summoning statue in 1974, Okinawa had attracted researchers by the busload trying to uncover more ancient relics. Some of whom, Darien knew, were just plunderers looking for something to hock on the black market.

It was a good thing the EDF kept a manned station on the ocean-side mound opposite the Azumi clan estate, else some foolish act might stir the Guardian of Okinawa himself from his dormancy.

Her fear that she might have to somehow negotiate the map from some private collection, or worse, that it had been destroyed or lost to all knowledge worried her for the long months it took to track it down. But fortunately, through her many contacts within secretive organizations, the map had been confirmed and retrieved without incident.

Challenger tapped his thick finger on his sheet, indicating another of his talking points. "Then I further recommend that training be conducted here on 14, away from curious eyes. Best that we have the whole island to ourselves anyway."

"Oh good aunt Quinn, that means you can give them the tour." Peter chirped, "I know you love the look on people's faces when you introduce them to your house pets."

The elder Darien raised an eyebrow, her nephew's suggestion extrapolating into a multiplicity of ideas.

* * *

 **SUBTERRANEAN CHAMBERS**

His face buried in his notepad, pen wriggling furiously, Tyler York stepped through the bulkhead door, closing it behind him with a shove of his foot.

Today had been very interesting. While monitoring the cameras planted around Ogasawara, he noticed that Anguirus and the juvenile Godzilla were acting strangely in the mid-afternoon. In separate locations they had paused in what they were doing, and simply stared off into the distance to the east. They stood for several minutes, as if waiting to see something appear on the horizon.

His own interest peaked, Tyler used the real-time satellite feed over the island to search for the cause. The raw aerial view showed nothing out of the ordinary, aside from an Ookondoru circling above the trench, and neither did the thermal filter. But something was drawing their attention, and as he considered the possibilities despite the lack of positive data, he was excited to reach his own conclusion. Godzilla, he reasoned, had come close to shore, his junior kin and oldest ally sensitive to his presence.

Long had scientists speculated that the Kaiju were able to detect one another, even over great distances. Godzilla himself famous for not just tracking other monsters, but exhibiting the uncanny ability to anticipate opponents. The growing theory was, that his connection to radioactivity allowed him to tap into strong and weak nuclear forces on what seemed to be a global scale. Tyler suspected that bending these forces to his will was what permitted him to avoid being detected by the instruments of man.

"But what does this mean?" He wondered aloud. "How can he mask himself to some receptors and not others?" Coming to a dead stop on the grated metal catwalk that spanned the aquatic antechamber, a new, grander thought spawned. "Or could it be the other monsters, with some kind of mechanism to penetrate the deflection?"

"Mysteries of life my friend!"

Stunned by the interruption, Tyler cocked his head to the side, his jaw slowly dropping. Down on the outcropping of volcanic rock that served as a landing, was a man he didn't recognize. What bewildered him more than the fact that the blond stranger was dressed only in a pair of swim trunks, was the fact that he was petting a _Leanei_ Gorgo the size of a pony like it was a cat.

"Wha… who…?"

The baby beast lay on it's stomach, head curled along it's forelimb and eyelids narrowed to a slim margin as Shane Redmond caressed its scales.

"You're Tayler right? I'm Shane, you and I are gonna be mission buddies."

"Mission buddies?" Baffled and slightly offended, York shook his head and adjusted his glasses in an attempt to make sense of what was going on. "What mission? Who exactly are you? And why are you playing with an amphibious monster?"

Shane's face warped like he had just been asked why the sky was blue. "The mission, the mission for Dr. Darien into lands uncharted! Tell you what, come down here and we can get properly introduced, eh?"

The very idea of surmounting the railing and being within arm's reach of the Gorgo was inherently ridiculous according to his first instinct.

"Down there? With that thing?"

"Yeah! He ain't gonna bite." Shane leaned bodily onto the creature, reaching under its chin for a playful scratching. "Are you buddy?"

The _Leanei_ gave a contented purr, lifting its head to allow Shane greater access. Tyler didn't quite know how to react, seeing the progeny of a monster that attacked his home country loafing about like a spoiled house cat. He thought about he potential biological dangers of physical contact with a deep-sea kaiju, and considered the influence he might have on a creature that should be better left untainted by human interaction.

But, he remembered that this was precisely what Professor Challenger was getting at. His prowess as a scientist would keep hitting roadblocks if he never deigned to study something without using instruments and safety glass. Plus seeing the Gorgo act like a pet reminded him of the family dog he had been so fond of as a boy.

Pursing his face in fortitude, Tyler shed his long white lab coat, folding it over the railing, then unbuttoned his aubergine dress shirt, laying that atop the coat.

"That's the spirit!" Watching the studious junior researcher weave his way between the horizontal bars of the railing, Shane had to suppress a chortle by biting his lip. Tyler was dangling himself down from the bottom of the walkway, his white tank-top coming untucked from his slacks as his polished shoes hung not but four feet from the rocks.

"Little more." Shane encouraged. "Just ah, just let go."

Dropping down with a clumsy tangle, Tyler did all but fall on his ass, bracing himself with his hands. The Gorgo let out a curious trill.

"You alright?" Shane asked.

"Quite." Brushing himself off and flexing his wrists, York composed himself as if nothing more had happened than he had absentmindedly tried to enter the wrong door. "We should really get a set of stairs installed." He grumbled.

Stepping awkward over the uneven igneous platform, Tyler laid his hands on the infant beast. At first it was to steady himself, but as he felt the living tissue in his hands, the realization that he was touching a real-life kaiju caused him to stare at the green scales with a silent awe. Slowly, he slid his palms across the back until they met the limits of his reach.

"See? He's just a big baby." He extended his arm across to the other side. "Shane Redmond."

"Tyler York." The slightly enchanted Englishman returned as he shook the hand. "But I gather you already knew that."

His innocent introduction spoiled, Shane smirked. "Yeah. Once Dr. Darien told me about the mission, I figured I'd get to know you guys."

Gorgo yawned, rolling onto its side.

"So you're a synecologist huh? What's that all about?"

"Not that I don't think you don't already know…" Measuring his response as he rubbed the softer scales of the creature's belly, Tyler's ego couldn't resist the urge to brag about his work.

"A synecologist studies the entire communal interrelationships between plants and animals within a given ecological environment."

"Sounds big."

"It is quite deeply involved, yes, and the best of us are experts across multiple disciplines." York took one of Gorgo's forelimbs in his left hand, pressing his right against the reptilian palm.

Enjoying seeing the other man take to the interaction like a kid in a petting zoo, Redmond scratched the tot under the chin.

"So how'd you fall into it? Magical talking hat, eh?"

York deadpanned him. "Ha-ha." But a smirk peeked through his grimace. "No, when I was a kid, all the children in my school would marvel at the monsters like they were supernatural entities. The Titans from classical mythology, Leviathan and Behemoth from the bible, that sort of thing. But it was in science, and later on biology, that I learned about the web of life, and how interdependent life on this planet really is. So I realized, that the kaiju, Godzilla, Ebirah, Reptilicus, this little guy here, they were as much a part of the ecosystem as any spider or hare."

"And you wanna figure it all out huh?"

"Precisely. Despite what some daydreaming Venusian might say, the Kaiju play their own unique part in Earth's biota. That is my chosen field."

Tyler brought a hand under fin that sprouted from the side of the creature's head, scratching it like one might a dog. To his delight, the Gorgo started to emit a hum from the back of its throat.

"Aww, he likes you." Shane mused, an eyebrow raised. "Next he'll be following you around."

"I admit, this is much more stimulating than watching the Man-Eater plant in a terrarium."

"You have a Man-Eater plant in your lab?" Genuinely intrigued, Shane tilted his head and leaned forward.

"I do!" Tyler exclaimed. "As a matter of fact I-" Catching sight of his watch, he frowned. "Well, I would show you, but I'm afraid I've got a biopsy sample I really should keep an eye on. Wouldn't want it to grow out of control and destroy the lab you know."

"Right."

"In any case Mr. Redmond, it was a pleasure to meet you." The pair shook hands again, and after a pat of the _Leanei's_ belly, Tyler went back over to the catwalk where he tried to lift himself back up.

The Gorgo pup and Shane watched on curiously as their new friend stood uncomfortably, looking up to the platform that hung above his reach.

"Check this out." Coming around York's side, Shane squatted down, interlocked his fingers and created a step for him to climb up with.

"Little team work."

Acting in tandem, Shane helped project Tyler high enough to grip the bottom of the walkway. His musculature not exactly conditioned for the strength necessary to hoist his bodyweight, he was glad to have the steady assistance of the quixotic Mr. Redmond.

A sudden burst of effort surprised him, and he nearly smashed the crown of his head into one of the rungs. Luckily he was able to angle his ascent in between the steel bars and sprawl onto the grate.

"Redmond! What the devil-"

Tyler looked below to see the Gorgo staring back up at him, the pate of his head directly under where he had been climbing.

"He gets a little excited sometimes with people he likes." The Canadian explained.

Getting to his feet, the junior researcher noticed that Shane was walking back towards where the rock jutted out to the water.

"How exactly did you get in here by the way?" York asked. "I didn't see you pass through the lab."

Shane called back over his shoulder, "Oh I came in the back door."

Without a hint of trepidation or pause, Shane swung his arms up to his head and leaped into the water.

Tyler was left gawking.

* * *

 **DORMITORY FLOORS**

"So what are you going to do with Princess while your away?"

Approaching the door to Faith's room, John Tarbtano slumped his shoulder against the small span of wall between her frame and the one to the neighboring dorm.

"Turn her loose into the wild?"

She was aghast, turning on him as she plugged her key into the lock with faux affront.

"No, knowing her, she'd go up to a Kamacuras for a petting and get gobbled up. I haven't sorted anything out though, we're months away from that."

The breath of air from inside the room was distinctively cooler than the hall, and the two of them filed inside with a sigh of relief. Faith threw her bag on the bed, inciting the mentioned feline to rise from the groove in the comforter it had settled into, and saunter up to its beloved human. The sable-furred Princess pressed her head into Faith's offered palm, nuzzling as if she hadn't been shown affection for days.

Tarbtano was just closing the door behind him when someone laid a hand on it to keep it open.

"Sorry!" The young dark woman apologized, in a noticeable African accent. John recognized her as the mail deliverer for this wing of the dorms.

"Package for Ms. Wolff." She announced, holding up a rectangular parcel wrapped in brown paper. Stuck to one broad side was a small white card.

Accepting the mail, John pushing the door open for the girl to see inside, allowing Faith to give the messenger a wave to let her know her job was done. "Thank you." He said as the girl departed down the hall, a bundle of other items under her arm. With mystery gift in hand, he closed the door and extended it to his girlfriend, much to her own puzzlement.

"Oh, a card…" She said, her fingers dancing in anticipation.

"Feels like a book." Weighing the shape, he ran a palm along the side, feeling the covers stick out from the middle. Sliding it into her grip she plucked the card away and read the short note.

"May your memoirs be as interesting as mine. QD."

"Quinn Darien?" Tarbtano guessed, the clues fairly obvious.

Faith ripped apart the wrapping and found in her possession, a journal. Light-brown soft leather covers, with a length of black twine that secured it closed around a latch in the middle of the front. Embossed on what she assumed was the front cover, was the imprint of a feather in the middle of two interweaving lines that topped in a valentine shape.

"Iiiii love it already." She said, undoing the string and flipping through the blank pages, the smell of new ink on paper wafting up to her.

"Seems like she had it custom made." Plopping down on the bed beside her, John craned his neck to examine the stamp. "Dr. Darien must've taken a real shine to you."

"Well this is nice of her, love the emblem." She turned the book over in her hands, soaking in the meaning and potential of the mission incarnated in the aromatic tome.

"I wonder what this thing will look like a year from now."

"Maybe it'll be filled with stories and sketches of underground jungles and exotic monsters." He suggested.

"Or maybe just my gripes about how my feet hurt, or it's too hot, or my boot got eaten by a giant centipede."

Acting out her last comment, John reached down, seized her left foot, and brought it up to his mouth, making growling, chewing noises as Faith was levered onto her back on a fit of laughter. He removed her shoe, locking his eyes onto hers, the attention of the two young paramours focusing in on each other.

John began to lean forward when she hooked her leg around is back, tugging him forward to loom over her like a stalking puma. She placed a hand on the back of his head as he continued to press his body closer to hers, a predacious grin growing

Their heads were a foot apart when the alarm sounded.

" _ **KAIJU ALERT…KAIJU ALERT"**_

The abruptness of the blaring klaxon jolted them both out of bed in an ungainly jumble, Princess yelped and scrambled out of sight. They raced to the window, which faced to the northeast, where Faith luckily had a good view of the neighboring islands.

"Look at that…" John said breathlessly.

Passing between NS 11 and 14, a massive, muscular, reptilian tail lashed out of the water in a long arc, splashing back down in an explosion of sea-spray. Arriving just in time, they caught a glimpse of huge bony plates disappearing behind the rising profile of another island.

Like theirs, the many windows facing in that direction were filled with gawking faces, some pointing and shouting. They all recoiled when their windows were shuddered by the thunderous roar that filled the air.

* * *

 **SOUTH PACIFIC**

 **HALFWAY BETWEEN HAWAII AND THE MARSHAL ISLANDS**

The oil rig "Ocean Bounty" belonging to the multinational Taos Mammon corporation hummed along through the night, pumping tons of liquid crude from the Earth's mantle. Red lights posted on the extremities continued to blink through the howling winds and briny rain. The storm kicking up the white tips of the waves had been raging for the last hour, keeping the crew and any other prying eyes from noticing the two uninvited guests creeping along the corners.

Black robes covered them head to toe like ninjas, only these warriors also bore tactical vests with magazine pouches, backed with Kevlar padding. On one side of their hips were holstered 40mm handguns, on the opposite were KA-Bar knives. Their heads and faces were covered in hoods tucked into their collars, with mesh over the eyes and nose. Clasped in hard-knuckled gloves, were their compact Glock 18 submachine guns at the high ready. Stemming from between their shoulder blades, Tottori short swords.

Silently and efficiently they slinked though the walkways, the tempest doing a fair job of battering them but failing to slow them down. Filing behind one another, the one in front stopped before crossing a door, the other swinging around to cover their rear. Glancing through the porthole window, he saw the path beyond uninhabited, a small room opening to a hallway.

Once inside, they made sure to tread extra silently. The initial room was dark, but the hall was lighted midway through, creating a greater threat of exposure.

The television in the common room screamed in Japanese of the ongoing soccer game being broadcast from their satellite feed. The event from the Tokyo Dome was a big one, and the dozen or so crew members were transfixed to the screen. They never noticed the black-clad figures sneaking through the back of the room, progressing out into another area.

Laying asleep with his feet propped-up on the control panel, the lone technician yawned as the data readings of the pumping machines continued to beep softly, a sign that everything was working as it should be. A number of security monitors, three rows of four screens, displayed different sections of the facility. One of them was focused on the common room, where the two other crewmembers who were supposed to be on duty with him were cheering for the game.

Parting the folds of his hood around his mouth aside, one of the shadowed warriors approached behind the slumbering platform tech, a man in his early forties, slightly overweight. His partner closed the door to the room, lowering the locking bar to seal them inside.

As carefully as disabling a bomb, the first intruder slipped a hand over the man's mouth, and pulled it tightly into the crook of his shoulder, pressing the muzzle of his gun to his temple. Stolen from his dreams, the man awoke and tried to scream and flail, but an authoritative grip on his face convinced his to settle down.

{Translated from Japanese}

"Cooperate, and you will live. Scream, and you die. Understand?"

The man nodded slowly, not making a sound, staring in the direction of the voice with saucer-wide eyes.

"Good."

Releasing his grasp of the tech's face, he rose from his crouch. The man turned his swivel chair, shaking in fear to see the two armed Ninjitsuka in the room with him.

"Do you know why we are here?" The masked-man asked.

His head bobbed swiftly, sweat beginning to seep out from the pores of his brow.

"Your drilling has been causing damage to the environment since it started operating. You mutilate the Earth, you pollute the ocean, and you terrorize the wildlife. Now, you are done."

The twitch in the technician's face betrayed confusion, looking to his captor as if he had just recited a litany of random words in several languages. Something clicked in the warrior's mind, and he suddenly realized that the man had been afraid of another secret.

"You thought we were here for something else, didn't you?" Slinging the weapon around to his back, he drew the Tottori from its sheath and rested the tip on the man's knee.

"What did you think we were after? Huh?"

The technician convulsed, "No!" he cried, trying to keep his voice just above a whisper. "If I tell you, they will kill me!"

The sword sunk into the flesh half an inch, eliciting a sharp bark of pain that the man had to cover his own mouth to avoid shrieking.

"If you don't tell me, I will kill you."

To emphasize his threat, the blade was slowly twisted.

His resistance overcome, the man put his hands together in prayer in front of his face. "Please! Please!"

Disgusted by the man's sniveling weakness, the warrior withdrew the sword with a flick of the wrist, and slapped him with the flat of the blade.

"Quite your crying!" He scolded. "And show me what you are really doing here!"

With both hands raised shoulder-high the crewman turned, wincing, to the control board for the monitor screens. Fingers quivering, he pressed a button and the three monitors on the end switched feeds. Now they showed a room, the same from different angles, and it was filled with people, men, women, teenagers, children.

Behind the mesh veil, the warrior's face grimaced in revulsion. The room itself was dark, with a single series of fluorescent lights down the middle. Some of the people were shackled to the vertical bars that lined the walls, others weighted down with wrist and ankle restraints to eyelets drilled into the concrete floor. The floor itself was filthy, patches of rust, puddles of some liquid reflecting the gleam of the lights. They were all dressed in dirty, torn clothes, heads hung in despair. One woman was yelling across the room in Chinese.

The second warrior who had been guarding the door walked over, curious to see for himself what had rendered his partner silent. Upon taking in the inhumane video, he pushed the other aside, gripped the crewman by the front of his shirt, and kicked the wheeled chair out from under him. With a hapless squeal the man failed to support himself on his injured leg and slipped, held up only by the furious hand.

"You are keeping slaves!" The other Ninjitsuka snarled. "Taos Mammon is using your rig to smuggle people!"

"Not us! Not Taos no!" Panicked tears were welling up in his eyes as he searched for any hint of mercy from behind the black hood. "I swear!"

"This is your rig!" The warrior shook him violently, but was calmed by a hand placed on his back.

"This is not the work of Taos." The first one said, motioning with his Tottori to the videos. "Look."

Glancing again to the screen indicated, not one of those inside the room, it showed a uniformed man walking through what seemed like the bowels of the rig, carrying a file folder, and bearing a pistol on his hip. It was the crest on his officer's cap that revealed who he was.

The Red Bamboo.

"They pay us." The crewman whined. "Taos doesn't know about it, supervisors are bribed."

"You deal with terrorists." Growled the one holding him. "You take blood-money."

"We have to! They said if we do not allow them to operate here, they will kill us all and sink the rig! They are extorting us! They know our names, where we live! We avoid them, we do nothing with them!" The frantic man sputtered.

The fist tightened as livid eyes appraised the words, weighing their honesty. Chao Gang judged them to be true.

"I should throw you into the ocean for your cowardice."

Instead of hurling the man to a watery death, he settled for a punch that knocked him out cold.

"We did not come here for people." Tozawa reminded him sternly. "We have no way to transport them. We are here to shut this rig down."

"I am not leaving those people in chains!" Chao swore. "And I will soak the floors in Red Bamboo blood."

Elsewhere in the facility, down in the lower quarters, the Red Bamboo officer approached a secure room, the guard at the door snapping to attention. His white uniform was similar in style, but more functional, completed by a white patrol cap and the Chinese replication of an M-16 at his side. The officer opened the door and passed him by without acknowledgement.

The Taos Mammon rig served as a weigh station, a transitional holding site the Bamboo used while moving the prisoners from their marked vessels, and into another disguised as one belonging to any number of nations or corporations. Assigned staff for theses intermediately periods was kept relatively small, eight men, to ensure their presence was not a distraction or burden to the Taos crew. Two soldiers rotating the post at the door to their office, two Lieutenants that rotated watch over the captives and crew, and four more men who rotated guarding the door to the holding cell in the room beyond.

Inside the small room, the relieving officer saluted his counterpart who returned the honor, and without word switched places behind the desk. The man on his way out making sure to close the door behind him. Shifts tended to be monotonous, and the officers, who monitored their own number of video cameras, were authorized the small luxury of party approved literature. Since things aboard the Ocean Bounty went generally smooth, the oncoming supervisor once seated, opened a drawer and took out his dog-eared copy of a book by a North Korean veteran, who recounted the glories and tragedies of fighting the Americans for the global Communist revolution.

As he immersed himself in another tale of how the brave author snuck past enemy lines and managed to toss a grenade into a position filled with enemy troops, one of the monitors he was ignoring showcased its own bloody drama.

The soldier guarding the door outside was set upon from above by two figures in black, one severing the arm that held the rifle with a chop of the Tottori, the other wrapping an arm around his face, twisting it away and smothering any horrific scream. The one who had taken the arm took the liberty of slashing his blade across the soldier's throat, and doing something ungodly to his abdomen that the camera could not see.

Satisfied, Tozawa adjusted his hold of the man, and eased him down to the floor. Chao swung his sword at a hard angle to pitch the excess blood off, and prepared to breach the room.

With practiced skill, Tozawa stood behind the door, and opened it from the hinging side, allowing Chao to rush inside and deal with any immediate targets in the two seconds before he joined him. A quick cry that ended in a gurgle was all the disturbance raised before the room was cleared. Tozawa, seeing the length of his friend's Tottori being pulled out of the Officer's throat where it had pierced through a book and out the nape, noted only that the threat had been eliminated.

Climbing down off the desk he had dived onto, Chao wiped the sword on the officer's sweat-stained lapel and slid it back into the sheath. He again positioned himself at an angle to the next door, bringing his submachine gun up. This time Tozawa simply knocked on the metal.

After a few moments, the door swung open and the curious head of the solder, along with a portion of his chest, was assailed by a barrage of bullets. The body, dead before it could fall, was caught by Chao who braced it against his chest as a shield of flesh, and entered the room.

The second guard on duty raised his rifle, but hesitated upon seeing his comrade in his sights, a mistake. The underarm Glock spat a burst of rounds that tore into the soldier's left leg, collapsing him to the floor. Chao dropped the corpse he was holding and took aim to finish his work.

"NO!" Tozawa barked, pushing Chao's weapon aside.

Thinking his life had just been spared, the Bamboo guard took a few more adrenaline energized breaths.

"You can't take them all." With a quick burst, Tozawa's bullets ripped through the guard, splattering blood across the walls.

Rifling through the soldiers pockets produced an electronic key, shaped like a conventional one, but inlaid with circuits. The door to the holding cell was another simple lever-action lock, but took a bit of muscle to move.

A stench that no factory farm would tolerate greeted them as they pulled back the door, but it was the faces of those in chains that struck Chao even harder. At first the people gawked at them with a newfound fear, cowering and shuffling away if they could.

Chao removed his mask, revealing his face to his kinfolk, and they began to respond with hope. He quickly crouched down to the nearest person, a boy he guessed no older than 14, and unlocked his shackles.

"We're getting you out of here." He told the boy in their shared tongue.

With only one key, Tozawa busied himself by inspecting the room, and most importantly, the manner of the high-tech restraints.

 _These are not normal prisoners._ He deduced.

"There are eight guards." An older man said in Mandarin, in his late 40's - early 50's judging by the creases in his face.

"Eight you say?" Tozawa repeated, considering the impact of the information.

"Eight." The man confirmed with a tired nod. "Make sure you get them all." The words had a venom to them.

"We will. You are all mutants, am I correct?"

"Yes." Cried a young woman, her face drawn from long hours of weeping. "They killed my husband and kidnapped me. We are all mutants here."

Chao worked fervidly to free them, and while doing so, noticed something queer on the inside band. An absorbent patch that smelled of pharmaceuticals lined the curve, where it would make skin contact.

"Some type of sedative or muscle relaxant." Tozawa remarked. "To keep them controllable."

Once all were freed, they were warned to remain in the cell for a few more minutes while the pair took care of the other guards. A few objected, but the older man, who seemed to have taken on a leadership role among the captives calmed them enough to see reason.

The sleeping quarters for the guards was not hard to find. Down the hall and unguarded, it was a small thing for them to sneak inside and slay them in their beds.

While Chao led the people, 14 in all, down to the egress point, Tozawa peeled off.

"Where are you going?" Chao demanded.

"To finish our mission." Taking a detour back to the control room, Tozawa found the negligent crewman still unconscious. The intelligence he had been briefed with beforehand proved accurate, as the controls were the same as the diagram he trained on.

Down at the bottom of the rig, the weather had fortunately begun to die down, and the specter of having to get the crowd through a tropical storm was not as daunting for Chao. He was also relieved to see the grapple hooks they'd tied off unmolested. Attached to them were ropes with knots at intervals for hand and footholds, which were anchored to their SEABOBs, underwater turbines that one held onto as they were propelled forward. These ones modified to increase horsepower.

The plan was to tie off the lifeboat to the SEABOBs and tow it. That was, whenever Tozawa returned.

Hopping down the perforated stairs two at a time, Tozawa arrived to see the last of the captives being loaded into the back of the lifeboat in it's slanted berth, pointed to the water some 40 meters below.

"Ready?" He asked Chao, who yanked down on the lever mechanism to release the boat.

The orange lifeboat slid out from its lock, and plummeted to the churning sea nose first, stabbing a few feet down before bobbing uprightly.

Unhooking their grapnels, they slung the metal quadrate around their shoulders and down around to the hip where they weaved the line around the arms to secure it to their bodies. Tozawa removed his own hood and tucked it into the inside of his load bearing vest. They climbed over the railing and standing side-by-side on the edge, raised their arms and leaped off, diving headlong.

Hooks fastened to the boat, the reason why the older man had been so composed under pressure became clear in a brief conversation. He had been in the Chinese Navy before retiring to a life of commercial boating. With him at the helm, he was able to guide the boat through the rough waves and keep up with the two rescuers who surged along ahead of them beneath the surface.

As they made their escape, the lights of the Ocean Bounty went dark and the machinery ground to a halt. An explosion erupted from the northwest corner.

30


	5. Chapter 4: Day One

29 Journey to the Land Primeval -Part 2-

~~~~~~~~ **DAY ONE** ~~~~~~~~

 _ **Personal journal of Faith Wolff,**_

 _ **Tuesday, April 21, 2009**_

 _Today was our first day of coming together as a team. For myself and fellow team member/BAE John Tarbtano, classes were suspended, and coursework rescheduled for us to attend the training. I hope Professor Raj isn't just stacking up my assignments in a box somewhere. For Princess, I arranged for my next-door neighbor Teresa to drop in mid-day and make sure she has food and water, and I even sweet-talked her into changing the litter box with the promise of all the juicy information I could share. Dr. Darien told me that some of the training would be all day events, and I don't want to imagine what I might come back to if my cat isn't cared for._

 _I met up with John at the helipad located on the northeast corner of NS 10, the main island. We were scheduled to fly the short distance over to NS 14, where Dr. Darien's original facility still stands and where she operates from privately. Normally the area is off-limits to students, not just because of the inherent dangers of inter-island travel, but because she has wanted to keep her retirement activities to herself. Not to mention the presence of a few highly dangerous specimens kept in storage._

 _It might sound counter-productive to keep volatile Kaiju remains in the middle of a habitat of destructive monsters. But if you think about it, it's better than having them on the mainland where they could reach a major city. Plus, if they did get out of line, there's plenty of other kaiju around to keep them in check._

 _John is habitually early, I'm… not. I had enough time upon arrival at the helipad to give him a hug before our ride was coming through the early morning mists. We'd been told not to bring much for the first day, which I guess would be some kind of orientation process. Just a notebook, a video camera, a few pens and pencils, and some snacks in my satchel. John had a back-pack with him that looked like it had seen its fair share of the outdoors, made of weather-beaten grey denim._

 _As always, it was as humid as you'd expect a tropical island to be, and as such we were both wearing shorts and light t-shirts. When the helicopter came down and sent all the mist scattering, I could feel the ethereal touch of the vapor send a chill up my skin. I'm not sure, but I think those chills had more to do with the start of our adventure then the moisture._

 _We were climbing on board when we heard a voice call out, yelling for the pilot not to leave. Like a man who was embarrassingly unfamiliar with how to run properly, I saw a lean guy with messy brown hair rushing to the helipad. Unlike me and John who had some idea of what we'd need for a day of activity, this guy was dressed in light brown slacks, a button-up tan shirt, and holding on for dear life to a laptop bag that had a piece of paper stuck in the zipper._

 _He climbed into the chopper huffing and puffing and slumped into a seat. His hand was shaking when he reached into a breast pocket for a pair of glasses and slid them on despite his eyelids being shut tight._

 _"I hate flying." He told us in a British accent. "If it's all the same to you, I'll just sit here with my eyes closed until we land."_

 _John was as bewildered as I was. "Umm… ok."_

 _The ride was a short one, like, literally five minutes. We didn't see any major kaiju, just a few Green Kamacuras buzzing around. John said he thought he saw the spiky carapace of Kamoebas moving under shallow water, which would be cool, since he's only seen like twice a year._

 _Landing on NS 14, what rumor has it President Peter Darien calls 'Quinn-land', there was a feeling that we had arrived on a new continent instead of another island a few miles away from our dorms. Unlike the main island, this one had never been developed to the same extent. Whereas 10 had buildings sprouting up on it like mushrooms after a night rain, 14 was a redoubt nestled in the steamy green wild._

 _The helipad was on top of the facility itself, probably I thought, in case someone had to make a hasty retreat. The building was kinda shaped like a stubby finger, partitioned sections and a rounded top. When the landing skids hit the surface, our new friend opened his eyes as promised and gave us thankful glances intermixed with nervous twitches._

 _"I apologize for the… awkwardness."_

 _Unbuckling my harness I felt like I had some weird obligation to accept his apology, common courtesy I guess._

 _"It's alright, some people just don't like flying."_

 _"I'm Tyler York, by the way." He extended a hand in our direction and John took it without hesitation. "It seems the three of us are part of this… endeavor."_

 _"John Tarbtano, glad to meet you." My boyfriend said genuinely, but with a subtle trace of uncertainty I was able to discern._

 _I was next to introduce myself. "Faith Wolff. I'm sorry, but nobody told us who else would be doing this."_

 _The three of us exited the craft, and I admit I got momentarily distracted when I realized the magnitude of the jungle around us. The modern institute is designed for aesthetics and housing students. Darien's facility was built like a concrete storm bunker, heavily fortified and marked all over with scratches and digs. There were no huge glass windows either, nothing standing between us and everything that lived in the jungle. Some of the leaves on the trees were as big as me._

 _"My understanding thus far, is that this mission is deliberately being kept out of the limelight." Tyler threw the sling of his bag over his shoulder, shoulders that seemed to shrink when he too became aware of how close he was to nature._

 _Tarbtano adjusted his stance and stood a little closer to me. "Makes me wonder just how big this thing is going to get."_

 _Our welcome party was quick to greet us. A sound of sliding metal drew our attention to the edge of the pad where a very well concealed hatch opened. The man sent to fetch us was about as imposing as anything I'd find lurking in the bushes. I could tell he was tall by the frame of his shoulders and length of his forearm. He had a long black ponytail held by a single band that reached down to his shoulder blades. A beard of equally dark tone covered his cheeks and jaw, with a few streaks of grey. He might have been as old as my father going by the creases around his eyes._

 _"Come on inside before something snatches ya." His accent placed him somewhere in the southern United States, and despite looking like a roadie for Black Sabbath, was fatherly sounding. He must have kids of his own._

 _We made our way inside, following the man downstairs. Him being tall was one thing, but this guy was a monster. He was built like a pro-wrestler and dressed all in black; black t-shirt filled with his muscles, black cargo pants, and black combat boots._

 _Along the way we passed through a hall, where I could tell a bunch of framed pictures used to hang, square and rectangular patches of lighter paint giving the secret away. He led us to a room with a long dark table, and a board on one side covered in plans, notes, and maps. Dr. Darien was there waiting for us, a bowl of grapes and a mess of files on the table in front of her."_

"You're early!" Quinn Darien exclaimed, rising from her seat and taking off her glasses. "Or perhaps I'm just getting forgetful." She joked.

"Don't let her fool you." The large guide warned the students as they filed in. "Woman's got a memory like a steel trap."

"Come on in and sit down, we've got a lot to go over." One by one Darien shook their hands, introduced herself to the boys, and gave Faith a familiar hug.

"Good to see you here Ms. Wolff. I hope you find some things to write about." She said with a wink.

When all were seated, Darien extended a hand towards the mountain of a man who had shown them in.

"By the way, this is my good friend, James Eikenboom. He's taking time out of his vacation and away from his family to help me with the training."

The big man simply leaned against the wall and nodded, folding his arms over his chest.

Dairen walked over to the assortment of maps on the corkboard and pulled down some of the miscellaneous items.

"I apologize for not being able to explain things better before, I'm afraid that certain parties with less than benevolent intentions have become very curious about our endeavor. For your safety and the integrity of your discoveries, we have to be careful."

"What exactly is our endeavor?" Faith asked. "What's all this about?"

The older woman glanced at her, "A new continent."

Eyebrows went up as Darien picked up a large rolled poster and threw it on the table. John reached over and unfurled it, revealing a large photocopy version of the map recovered in Okinawa.

"With all due respect Ms. Darien…" Tyler began. "We already know about Antarctica."

"As most do." She retorted. "But if John will be so kind as to point out the particular notation…"

Tarbtano put his hand on the map, placing the rough demarcation with the hand-scrawled notation between his thumb and pointy-finger.

"…You will see your future destination."

"You're sending us to Antarctica?" Faith asked somewhat incredulously. She wasn't one who minded the winter season too much, but the frozen continent was something else entirely.

"I'm not just sending you to there-" Darien said with conspiracy. "I'm sending you under it."

The three students made no effort to hide their confusion, looking back at her like she had just announced that they were going to the core of the moon.

"Let me tell you a little story." Quinn walked over to her pile of manila folders, and extracting one, spilled the contents out in front of them. Arrayed were a collection of pictures taken with various quality of an undersea temple and close-ups of some pictographic inscriptions. Interspersed in the contents were copies of pages from the Venusian Revelations. It began as a tale of King Ghidorah's first visit to our solar system, as told by the psychic entity of a Venusian possessing Princess Selina Maas Salno of Selgina. But even after the possession ended, the princess was still subject to episodes of automatic writing, revealing more and more of Earth's prehistoric past.

"As we know, long ago in our ancient past, King Ghidorah threatened every microbe of life in the galaxy. At first, the civilizations of Mars thought they could oppose him, but he wiped them out. The people of Venus, seeing what was coming devised a plan to use the life-energies of Earth to create a defense mechanism."

Quinn pushed some of the pictures aside and selected one of the Mu'an temple shots, this one showing a carving of a creature that looked like a butterfly soaring above crowds of people reaching out to it.

"The result of that effort, we're all aware. But it's their mechanism, that is our point of interest here. The way that they created the Gigamoth, was a type of energy science to them, as we might understand chemistry or nuclear power. But once this energy was harnessed, it wasn't something they could simply shut off, put back in the bottle. It kept producing these… beast-gods."

"Gods?" Tarbtano balked. "Like Zeus, and Thor, and Vishnu?"

"A matter of perspective" Darien made it sound like the issue was splitting hairs. "Taller, stronger, more intelligent than any dinosaur or normal animal, a new breed of creature ruling over territories like Shoguns. Godzilla, Anguirus, Rodan, Gorgo, the Six Dragons, all of them are products of this unleashed energy."

"For centuries the Earth thrived, the beast-gods ruling over territories on the land, and the Venusians creating the great ocean kingdoms. Lumeria, Atlantis, and Seatopia served as the beacons of civilization. Then, there was a cataclysm. Some details still elude me, but Atlantis created something called 'Ra-Zin' that resulted in massive world-wide ecological destruction. Atlantis was ruined, the city and whatever Ra-Zin was, sent to the depths."

"The Seatopia we are more familiar with today is the result of it becoming isolated and adopting a cult around Megalon as their city's protector. Lumeria as best we can understand, slipped into decay."

"On land however, despite all the devastation, the domains of the beast-gods continued, though they were fractured and dispersed. They became the islands and areas of the world that we regard as being the domain of Kaiju. Farou Island, Ryukyu islands, _Nullius Ager_ , Lagos, and any of the legends of the ancients you can think of.

Tyler interrupted her tale. "And whatever this spot on Antarctica is, or so you suspect."

"I do." Quinn pulled a suitcase out from underneath the desk, and setting it on the table, opened it to show them a jagged-edged parchment enclosed between two glass panels. "Going over the material from Mu, I found two brief references to a place called, 'Urth', mentioned to be far to the south. Then I began to think there might have been another kingdom, one not sharing the glory of its siblings for some reason not defined.

Like I said, the Ryukyu islands are one of these vestiges of Lumerian culture, their royal family one of the few in the world that still carries the Venusian DNA, albeit highly diminished. As such, I had my suspicions that somewhere on the islands, would be some reference to other locations from either before or after the cataclysm.

So I reached out to some associates of mine to do some investigating on Okinawa. Standing there today is the ancient castle of the Azumi clan. In 1974 archeologists operating with permission uncovered the statuette of King Caesar, triggering the prophecy that foretold the coming of the original Mechagodzilla. My agent discovered that there was more to find in those ancient caverns."

Darien offered her palm in the direction of the encased parchment. "And there, far to the south…"

"Urth…" Faith stared at the enlarged image of the Okinawan map, comparing it to its smaller original version. Drawn by some skilled artist, who through no fault of his own distorted the shoreline of the 7th continent. But it was unmistakable, the feet of South America and Africa poking down from above, the outline of a charted course to the Ryukyu chain. And sitting a little ways in from the coastline, flanked by a pair of stylized creatures so familiar to archaic maps, was an dark blot notated with Japanese lettering she was not familiar with.

"Lumeria, Atlantis, Seatopia, and Urth."

"Call it a hunch." Darien said. "But there is something very different about Urth, a reason it's not like the others. If we can crack that reason, we might write a new chapter in the history of mankind."

 _"She talked to us a while longer about what she hoped we might find. Ruins of lost civilizations, more records of prehistory, and of course a whole slew of new kaiju to document. Given how things would eventually turn out, I sometimes think I should have grabbed John and dragged us both the hell out of that room._

 _For a while she answered our questions about the expedition. What kind of equipment we would need to bring, our training schedule, how we'd reach the opening. Basically we would become proficient in different aspects of hiking and survivalism, become familiar with our gear, all the stuff we'd need to go out into an uncharted wilderness and come back alive. It seemed like a lot, I'd never even imagined doing something like this before. But with months to prepare, Dr. Darien was making it sound very routine. What could go wrong? I remember asking myself._

 _We ate lunch there in the room, and it turned out to be our very first lesson. Dr. Darien gave us these packaged meals called 'MRE's', the things soldiers get when they don't have access to real food. John knew how to open it and prepare the food, his father had been in the Air Force and had brought a few home on occasion. He showed me how to slide the entrée packet into the heater bag and use water to activate the chemicals in the pouch. The other guy, Tyler, he seemed to stare at everything for a minute or two before doing anything with it, examining every little thing like he might discover some new genus of food._

 _After lunch, we got to go on a tour of the facility, which turned out to be what you'd expect from an off-limits kaiju research lab. She took us down into the holding bays, where they stored the subjects."_

Quinn in front to guide them, Eikenboom in the rear to keep them from wandering off, the group made their way along a catwalk in a dark cavern. On either side of them were huge containment units, sealed chambers that housed massive forms obscured by the haze of preservent gasses and frost coating the inside. The pods were suspended from the unseen roof and secured in a support structure of steel beams and the tangle of cables and tubes that fed into them. They hung above the dark water below, creating an atmosphere out of a sci-fi/horror film.

"Here in the underground caverns, we can store the subjects in suspended animation. We actually bring them in from below, ferrying the pods through the water-filled tunnel system from where it opens to the ocean."

Darien put a finger to her lips, and looking about, selected one of the units. "Perhaps some of you will recognize this friendly face." Going up to the control panel, one of which was stationed at each container, she turned a dial to the left. The gases in the pod dissipated, revealing the strange face of the creature within.

"That's the creature they took down in Rome!" Tarbtano literally pointed out. "The alien from Venus."

Quinn nodded. "We call him, Ymir." The unconscious beast was resting with its eyes closed, its reptilian skin still stained with blood from the day it went down. "Exposure to our atmosphere caused it to grow exponentially larger. Its natural food, sulfur, couldn't give it nearly enough sustenance as it grew, ensuring that it was constantly starving, which drove it mad."

 _"I probably shouldn't have been so awed by the creature, we've known about alien life-forms for decades. But this was the first I had ever come so close to, seeing it with my own eyes."_

"Poor guy." Faith lamented. "Comes 20 million miles to Earth only to get stuck in a freezer."

But Darien wasn't so glum. "I have a friend of mine looking onto some methods that might contain his growth, perhaps something like keeping him in an enclosed environment with atmospheric controls. Plenty enough sulfur can be harnessed from Adona to feed him. If Rodan doesn't mind, that is. Based on what we know of its early development, I suspect it naturally grows to about the size of an ostrich, and based on its configuration, lives in a rocky or likely volcanic region."

"I'm sorry…" Tyler waved a hand to interject himself into the conversation. "But even if you can find a way to build some, terrarium for this thing, he's still an extraterrestrial and can introduce unknown variables into the environment. Who knows what kind of factors are at play, things you don't even know to control for. The safest place for us and that, thing, is in that case."

"Things like what?" Darien asked him in return, in a way that suggested she might already know the answers. "The precise sulfuric composition for its diet? It's potential reaction to other compounds in the environment? What other sustenance it might need for survival? Biological contamination?"

York realized he might be wading into deeper waters than he anticipated and demurred his posture as he adjusted his glasses. "I imagine you would have to consider everything you'd need for any other animal in captivity, in addition to whatever elements you might attribute to its foreign nature."

Quinn smiled, knowing she had subdued the younger man's exuberant attempt to display his intelligence. "Ymir has been with us since 1990, after I talked the Italian government into letting go of him. They were pretty worried about him waking up during the transportation process, but once he was far enough away I suspect they stopped giving a damn."

She tucked her hands into her pockets, Darien's mind drifting back to those days years ago with a fond remembrance.

"We moved him in a repurposed oil-tanker we purchased from France, cutting a set of hatch doors into the deck and lowering him into the hold, plenty of space to house all the support equipment. The hardest part though was getting him out of the Mediterranean. The straits of Gibraltar were the more friendly exit, but it's in the opposite direction we needed to go, which left the Suez Canal as the first hurdle in a gauntlet of what promised to be a tense journey.

By the grace of whatever god you like best, we made it out to the Indian ocean, and it was mostly smooth-sailing from there. I say 'mostly' because we did have a brief encounter with some Somali pirates. Fortunately, I had a top-notch security team with me, isn't that right James?"

The students turned to see the towering man leaning against the railing, looking back at Dr. Quinn with a bemused smirk.

"I had just left the Rangers and some service buddies of mine had recommended getting into private security, said that was where the good money was at."

" _His voice had a deep resonance to it, I could feel it vibrating through the air. I couldn't place his southern accent at the time, but some weeks later he let slip that he lived in Georgia when he kept bragging about how perfect his lawn was."_

"So I hooked-up with this outfit out of Texas, full of prior service guys like me." Eikenboom continued. "We got sent a few places, some pretty, some nasty, all hot as a pig's ass. Finally, after a few months I thought I lucked out when my group got put on an escort mission, real easy they said. Just link-up with the client in France, hop on a boat, go on a little Mediterranean cruise, getting' paid to go on vacation.

Then I find out our client is some kin'a conservationist for monsters, gonna pick up a space-critter and bring it home. But that was all the easy part. You know that part in fairy-tales, where the little child is lost in the woods and comes to a fork in the road? One path is all sunshine and birdsong, the other side is dark and spooky? Guess which path we took."

" _You wouldn't think it by looking at him, the way he stands around all stoic. But once you get James Eikenboom going on some story or talking about his family or his faith in God, you can't shut the guy up. He was great to have around, I can still picture the way he would get into a story by re-enacting his part in it. He was the 'fun uncle' of our little group, and I still miss him sometimes."_

Fixing them with a wry grin, James left the railing and gestured with a wide sweep of his arm.

"There we were, just got past the Bab al Mandeb strait, with the Arabian Peninsula shrinkin' in the horizon. All of a sudden, a bunch'ah those little speed boats come flying in from outta nowhere, look like the whole damn East African Navy. They were all carrying discount Russian weapons, mounted PKs, RPGs, AK-47s, machetes, hell I think I saw one guy with a damn whaling harpoon.

My guys are armed with standard stuff, M4s, pistols, some smoke grenades, so there's no way we're going to hold them off from boarding. I have my team take all the nonessential personnel down into the cargo hold, where they can defend a single entrance. I take my ass up to the upper deck where I can get a good vantage.

Now, I can hit a fly from 300 meters, so I start with the guys carrying RPGs. They get about-"

" _His account of taking on the pirates by himself went on for the next few minutes in great detail. Every now and then when I thought I detected an embellishment or half-truth, I glanced over to Darien to see if she had any tells. But the whole time she just had the same admiring expression, as if James' story was a pleasant trip down memory lane._

 _John, bless his heart, got really into things. He'd ask a question about how James disarmed a hatchet-wielding pirate, or how far you can bend a man's back over the bar of a handrail before it snaps. John usually wasn't given to the stereotypes about guys enjoying violence, but he did have his moments._

 _Tyler I just felt sorry for. He tried to keep a straight face as our action-hero bard explained with articulate gesture how you can literally beat a man to death with his own arm. I could actually see his skin going paler the longer he listened."_

"-So then I took the guy's weapon, and shoved the barrel right down his-"

"Hey." With a nudge of her elbow, Quinn broke Faith's attention away from the gripping account, the younger woman surprised by how quietly she had managed to sneak up on her.

"Come check this out."

Leaving the men to their own entertainment, Faith followed as Darien led her over to a different containment unit.

"Since you're so interested in getting to know the kaiju, I think you'll enjoy this one."

" _She brushed some dust off a control panel that evidently did not get too much attention and flipped a switch to activate the chamber's light. Instead of some huge monster, there was only what looked like a dragon claw at the end of a forearm stump with long brown hair growing out of it. It seemed familiar, but I just couldn't place it."_

Crossing her arms, Quinn gave her a few moments to try and figure out what she was looking at.

"Think back to Denmark, early '60's."

Faith pointed a finger at the frozen appendage floating in the cryogenic fluid. "It that what I think it is? An arm from that weird dragon-thing?"

"Reptilicus. I always thought it was a catchy name." The doctor put her hands behind her back, standing beside Faith as they both marveled at the severed claw.

"If some Kaijuologist theories are to be believed, the ancient creature this belongs to is the progenitor of the race of large serpents known in their native Nordic myths as lindworms. They were a common feature in medieval folklore and art, a snake-like being, between five and fifteen feet long, possessing two stubby legs, some even sported a pair of wings as well."

"How old do you think he is?" Faith asked, leaning her hands on the railing to look closer.

"Hell if I know." Darien huffed. "Based on what we know about the Venusians tampering with the Earth, he could be millions of years old. In fact, I have another associate of mine working on a little pet theory we put together. In the Lumerian ruins, one of the murals depicts a wheel of six dragons. The images have lost a lot of detail over time, but I think we already know who three of the six are; Manda, Quetzalcoatl, and Reptilicus."

" _I didn't know it at the time, but she was knocking on the door of a monumental discovery. Though I suspect she had a crude notion that the six of them shared some bond, otherwise, why would the Lumerians have them all in the same depiction?"_

"Personally, I have been tossing around a few other ideas, very loose and they'll probably never be able to be substantiated."

Faith, sensing that Quinn was daring her to inquire, gave her a playfully curious raised eyebrow. "Like what?"

"Well…" Darien began with the subtle excitement befitting a woman her age. "It's kind of a two-parter and involves some very notable historical figures."

" _She stepped up to the railing next to me, lowering her voice like she was about to dish on some juicy gossip."_

"One of the core myths of England, is St. George slaying the dragon. I think the creature he slayed, was a lindworm that had strayed far south and wound-up in Britain. The other one, is even more fantastical.

According to Norse mythology, there was a massive serpent called Jormundgandr, it was so long that it could wrap around the earth. This same serpent is destined to die in battle with Thor during Ragnarok, but not before poisoning the storm god with his deadly venom.

I think the legend of the Midgard Serpent is based on Reptilicus. Granted, that presumption is based on the regional connection, the ability of the monster to regenerate and grow to unknown sizes, and that he spits that radioactive goop."

"All we need is a Thor." Faith chirped. "And we'll know for sure."

 **~~~~~~~~DAY TWO~~~~~~~~**

" _On the next day, we met another member of our team. Like the day before, we gathered in the conference room, this time there was a few bowls of fruit and a coffee maker handy. John and I had already had a quick breakfast in the cafeteria where Teresa joined us, and we told her a few things about what we did. Leaving out of course all the stuff about lost continents._

 _Tyler York came in and sat on the opposite side of the table from us, he still looked a little out of it from yesterday. He plopped down in his seat, took out a notebook and pen, placed them on the table, spaced them evenly and parallel, and munched on a few pieces of melon._

 _Dr. Darien herself had yet to arrive."_

"Think she's gonna show us any live kaiju today?" John Tarbtano whispered into Faith's ear before popping another grape in his mouth. "I hear they got a few running around this place."

"I don't know if Tyler could take it." She nodded in the direction of their third wheel. "Unless she's got some really tiny ones in a terrarium he can look at."

"She's had a long time to work on this facility since the school moved out. Darien could have all sorts of things hidden here. She might even have a Godzuki."

"oh, that thing's not real." She scolded.

" _We heard the sound of laughter as Darien entered the room. With her, was of course Mr. Eikenboom, and a new guy, who was like, the total opposite of him."_

The students all rose to greet Quinn, and the two men who trailed after her.

"Sit down." Sounding annoyed by the show of deference, Darien took her seat at the head of the table while gesturing for them all to do the same. James rounded the far side and eased himself into his own seat, kicking his legs up to put his feet on another.

Shane Redmond, the last to enter the room, was dressed in khaki shorts and a red and white striped polo shirt.

"Morning everybody." The Canadian said with a polite wave. "I'm Shane, and I'll be a part of this little adventure."

Going around the table, Shane shook hands with John and Faith, who introduced themselves in turn. Going around to take a seat next to Tyler, he extended his hand and shook it briefly.

"Tyler, nice to see you again. I ran into Professor Challenger the other day, he gave me an earful about your work."

" _I had to stifle a chuckle, because Tyler visibly winced at the thought of what his mentor might have been saying about him, considering how coarse the Professor was reputed to be sometimes. Plus, I had also noticed the surprisingly strong grip Shane had. He didn't press too hard with me, but I could tell he didn't take any such gentlemanly consideration with another guy. John later admitted to me that he had gotten enough of a squeeze to warrant an under-the-table flexing of the fingers afterwards."_

"Shane here is one of our unsung heroes." Quinn touted, pointing with an open hand to the man. "He's gone on many expeditions for the institute, including the dig in Egypt where he found the evidence of Varan having visited there."

"That's the one everybody likes to talk about." Redmond dismissed. "Personally, my favorite stuff was looking into the cults in Central America, and recently I've been doing some good stuff in Korea concerning an ancient legend about something called the 'Artox Army'. And there was the few months I spent in western Canada, investigating wendigo myths."

Tarbtano straightened in his chair. "Really? You're looking into the shapeshifters?" A smile bled through his attempt to hide his eagerness. "My dream project is lycanthropes."

Hearing the Latin name of the more commonly titled, 'werewolf', Shane sucked a breath through his nostrils, staring at John like a hungry dog at piece of unattended steak.

"You and I are gonna be friends."

'That's good." Quinn said coyly. "Because the other two members of the team are coming in tomorrow. I hope you get along with them just as easily."

" _ **As for the rest of the day,**_ _we actually left the facility and went on a little practice expedition with Shane as our guide and James as our protective chaperone. Though, judging by the way James let Shane lead us where he wanted, I got the feeling that he didn't fear for our safety too much._

 _Supplied with a few camelback kits, we filled them with water from the facility's purification tank. We exited the building from a side entrance, which once through, I realized was hidden into the cleft of a waterfall so perfectly, I hadn't gone more than a few steps out before I lost the ability to discern where it was."_

"What about the island's fauna?" York asked as they gathered on the other side of a small pond at the base of the waterfall. "The Green Kamacuras aren't exactly tagged for easy locating."

"No they aren't, but that sounds like an enterprising idea, man." Shane said as he patted a backhand on Tyler's chest. "Surprised nobody's ever thought of that before."

"Well the hard part would be getting close enough to plant a transmitter." Falling in step behind Redmond, York worked out the logistics of such a project as he kept his head down to avoid any distractions to his thought process. "We can't just shoot them with tranquilizer darts like wolves or attach them like sharks. Their exoskeleton would shatter conventional needles, and they would remove any external devices in the course of their grooming."

"So you'd need something to get under their shell, without having to compromise their armor with a bunch of puncture points."

"Possibly. One also might consider an oral delivery by hiding something in prepared food. But I fear the device would get destroyed in the process."

"Yeah, you ever see one of those things while they're eating?" Shane clasped his hands over his mouth, wriggling his fingers together in imitation of the monstrous mantid's mandibles. "And that's if he didn't just shit it out the next day."

" _Shane's tactic did its job, distracting Tyler from his worries and onto a specific technical problem to be solved. I began to realize that there was a lot more to this guy than he let on. Under the casual clothes of a college junior, he moved with a sharpness, and his eyes were never at rest. He kept Tyler talking about work projects even as we scaled an incline up the spine of a ridge, walls of vegetation on either side of us."_

A grumbling roar sent shivers through the jungle, as if the titan Chronos had opened his mouth for a sleepy yawn. Redmond immediately lowered himself to one knee and raised his left hand in a fist, alert for any further sign of danger.

" _Some animal instinct of mine, the kind they say are buried deep in the older parts of the brain kicked in and I dropped too, John putting his hand on my shoulder. I suppose 'protecting your mate' is another one of those instincts for men. Glancing back, only to see that James had disappeared without a sound, I wondered how a guy that big and heavy could move so quietly."_

"-A few theories on how the Ymir could be con…tained…" York came to a cautious stop when he realized that Redmond was kneeling in front of him. He stood there for a moment, his brain trying to catch up to what he was seeing.

Shane lashed out with a back hand and swatted him in the right knee, a universal signal to get down. Clutching his notebook against his chest, Tyler hastily cowered behind the guide, eyes stark wide in search of a threat. "What was that?" He whispered.

"Leopard seal." Shane muttered.

"Really?"

"No."

Turning his head to show Tyler the side of his face, Redmond put a finger to his lips, then transitioned it to tap his ear.

Again, the long bellow sounded, this time clearer and more distinct.

"There" Shane pointed to the side, crouch-walking into the bush. Faith and John followed suit, albeit their ability to move as low not quite as smooth. Tyler held back, watching the pair go off and leaving him behind. When he looked for the large southerner who was supposed to be trailing them, and found that he was alone, there was a newfound urgency to the young Englishman's step to rejoin the others.

Blundering somewhat through the heavy leaves for a few meters, York nearly stumbled over the crouched shape of Tarbtano when at last the foliage broke. A steadying hand from Faith halted him in time to take a knee as they did.

Shane, Faith, and John were all perched on the edge of a deep slope that overlooked the westerly facing waters. The angled cliff ended with a thin beach at the base, stretching in a U-shape to form a snug little cove. There down on the strip of sand, curled-up along the bow like a cat, was the head of Titanosaurus stretching out of the water, sound asleep and soaking in the sunlight. The kaiju opened his maw and uttered another of the long grumbling yawns.

" _I had never seen a kaiju this size before, not in real life anyways. Looking down at Titanosaurus, it made my morning routine with Frank the Kamacuras seem like the barking dog in the neighborhood. Next to me John went on all fours so he could lean farther to get a better look. He had always been a fan of the reclusive ocean goer, so it must have been a bucket-list moment for him._

 _A lot of what people see of the monsters is them tearing down buildings, roaring furiously under hails of firepower, or fighting each other. Rarely would the world get to see these incredible creatures in their more vulnerable moments. I took the little camera out of my cargo pocket and snapped a few pictures. Getting some other angles for the shots would have been nice, but I wasn't going to complain."_

Tyler York gawked, rising from his crouch so he could see over the others. "That… that's Titanosaurus. He's sleeping on land. I would have thought he slept underwater."

"According to Dr. Darien, he does sleep on the seabed usually, but he does like to sun himself from time to time." Redmond sat back on his rump and hung his arms around his knees. "He knows that she has a place here, so he comes around like a stray dog that befriended a human. This cove is a nice spot for a nap, to shallow for the true aquatic kaiju. Plus, even a kaiju would need some serious stones to try and take on a powerhouse like Titanosaurus."

The massive tail of the monster curled up, the end splaying to expose the paddle. It rose up so high, it was eye level with the group of humans, before falling back down and splashing in the water with a thunderclap. A spray of saltwater came flying though the air and rained over the team like the first row in a Seaworld show. Faith yelped in surprise and the boys chuckled, even Tyler's apprehension was defeated by the spirit of the moment.

Titanosaurus resumed his peaceful slumber, gently rubbing a few claws over his belly.

John wiped the water from his brow and flicked it aside. "He's incredible, it's hard to take in just how big he is." He said to Faith.

"I know." She said, brushing aside the hair that had been plastered to the sides of her face. "To think he went toe-to-toe with Godzilla and held his own."

"Reminds me of my dog." The resonant voice jolted John, Faith, and Tyler out of their admiration. They turned and saw James Eikenboom standing behind them, gazing down at the unconscious monster from behind sunglasses. "Likes to curl-up the same way when he gets in my recliner."

"Where the hell'd you go?" Tarbtano asked.

"To make sure the noise wasn't stirring up anything else. You never know what you're gonna run into on these islands.". The man glanced at them in earnest, noticing the dampness of their appearance.

"Splashed you, didn't he?"

 **~~~~~~~~DAY THREE~~~~~~~~**

" _It was the third day, and we were beginning our training in earnest."_

"Come on! Get those noodle legs moving!"

The top of the hill overlooked the bay between Adona and Ogasawara island, the normally think green foliage thinning out where the footrail bisected the crest. Professor George Challenger, walking staff in hand and dressed for a hike in summer mountains was the first to reach the apex nonetheless worse for wear. He came to a stop and took in the pristine wild vista, sucking a deep breath in through flaring nostrils.

"Ah! Nothing like the kiss of morning air! The scent of the salt water on the breeze. Those knock-kneed dandies at Oxford and Harvard wouldn't have half the testosterone or manly bearing to undertake the adventure before us."

Faith Wolff was the next head to rise above the curve of the hill, her cheeks flush with exertion. She huffed with every step, hands gripping the straps of her brown rucksack, back bent forward as she marched up the trail.

"Present company excluded, of course." Challenger amended stoically.

Behind her came John Tarbtano, faring better but still visibly taxed by the morning's effort.

"We don't usually get to see much of the islands." Pausing to admire the blue and green island vista, John took a moment for a few breaths and wipe his brow. "Too many things that'll try to eat us."

"Not enough prey species here to support a breeding population of Kamacuras. Though some do wander over from the other islands from time to time."

Challenger gestured for the pair to take a seat as he himself eased down onto a patch of grass. Faith and John found a large stone to sit back against, dropping their packs on either side.

"Tyler was right behind us." Faith said, tilting forward to look back down the path. "I could hear him straining."

Indeed, making his own way up the incline, Tyler York grabbed hold of an angled branch to steady himself, bracing his other hand on a thigh. Sweat stains darkened his shoulders and down the back of his pastel blue button-up shirt. A set of scrawny, pale calves stretched out from ostensibly over-sized shorts.

Tones of whistling approached, sounding as merry as a Sunday stroll through the park. James Eikenboom, the brawny Georgian came carrying not just his own rucksack, but also a waist pack with a medical cross on it, and a high-tech looking rifle slung across his chest. In his left hand he held Tyler's pack by the straps, swinging it like a bagged lunch.

"Gonna need to put some meat on those hocks, kid." He thundered, not a trace of physical exertion in his voice. "Hell, all we're doing is walking."

York raised an eyebrow, glancing over as his companion caught-up. "Fair point Mr. Eikenboom. But I might point out that your soldierly perspective might be a bit skewed." He held up a palm in a defensive show. "No disrespect, but my work doesn't lend much time or energy towards turning my body into a machine like yours."

James smirked, tossing the extra bag to the side. "Yeah, maybe." He said with mirth. "I seen a lot of faces like yours, ya know." Pointing to Tyler, he wagged a finger. "Exhausted, out of your element, full of doubt. But as sure as the good Lord put the heavens in motion, I seen them same faces transform into something more; strong, confident, determined.

Every step you takin' right now, is a step towards a new, more powerful version of yourself."

"Yes, well, 'journey of a thousand miles' I suppose." Tyler stood up to straighten his back, as he did so, he felt something grab onto his left shoulder. His head snapped down to see a long green claw draped over his clavicle. In an instant his face drained of color.

"Aw hell…" James moved, but before he could reach York, the younger man was yanked off his feet and pulled into the greenery.

Screaming as he was dragged on his back, York flailed for something to grab, anything just to give him a moment to analyze the situation. "Ahhh! Ahhh! Help!". Pain in his shoulder lanced like venom from the barbs clamping down and holding him tight. He looked up, and among the flashes of green, he saw the football-shaped head of the Kamacuras above him, staring back down with its unblinking multifaceted eyes.

The size of a small horse, the kaiju arthropod was racing backwards through the jungle, wings beating in a blur as it tried to separate its human prey from its companion. Normally the verdant variety of the mantid hunted in packs, using their natural camouflage to approach their target from stealth, pounce, and rend their flesh into consumable shreds.

This one however was hunting alone and needed to isolate its prey from its own kind before being able to incapacitate it enough to begin the feeding process. Having the advantage of a greater scope of vision, the Kamacuras saw the break in the leaves where a small clearing lay just on the other side.

"No! No! Get off!"

Bursting into the patch of branchless tall grass, Tyler was thrown onto the ground, the Kamacuras pinning him into the blades as he kicked and squirmed. He screamed as the salivating mandibles gnashed overhead, eager to feast on such a tender and juicy meal.

Eikenboom entered the clear like a panther, pouncing from the bush to strike his foe. His heavy shoulder collided into the Kamacuras like a freight train, knocking the ravenous bug away from Tyler. The creature reeled, fluttering to keep from tumbling to the ground.

"Head for the top of the hill." Putting a hand on York's chest, he gripped a handful of his shirt and pulled the young man bodily onto his feet with the ease of lifting a gallon of milk.

"But… you.."

"Just get!" James barked. Tyler stumbled into the green as the Georgian squared off with the kaiju.

"Alright mush mouth. Come get you something to eat."

The Kamacuras lunged, and James put a kick into its chest, thrusting it back several feet against a tree. Disoriented by the impact of the rapid combination of the strike and the slam, the arthropod hardly took notice of the boot-shaped crater in its exoskeleton.

James fingered the strap of his weapon but shrugged the notion away. He walked over to where the Kamacuras was writhing in pain, raised his palm into a striking position, and drove it through the creature's head with a momentary sound of chitin cracking and organs squishing.

" _Tyler caught up to us at the hilltop looking like scrambled crap. He was dirty, disheveled, and panting like he had just run an obstacle course. Pointing back down the trail, he gibbered frantically about being attacked and James being left behind. John and I started to get up to find out what he was talking about, but Professor Challenger barred our path with his walking stick. 'Mr. Eikenboom is in no need of your assistance.' He assured us._

 _Sure enough, James came up a minute later, quite literally whistling Dixie. He walked past a speechless Tyler and tossed something into his chest. It was the arm of a green Kamacuras."_

 **The dock in the northeast corner of NS 14** was seldom used these days. Long after the new facility had become the focus of the institute, only the _Calico_ still found a usual home here. Fitting since it had been the first. The pier stuck out in the middle of an open cove, small waves gently lapping against the posts.

"You sure about these guys, doc?" Shane Redmond asked. He stood side-by-side with Quinn Darien, the pair of them staring down the length of the pier. On one side the _Calico_ was moored, the faithful ship still looking well with the previous year's paint job. On the other side was the open berth where they awaited their new guests.

"Trust me, kid." She said, arms folded. "Men like these eat, breath, and sleep dedication, discipline, and honor."

"They sound like real headcases."

Darien mulled the thought. "Yeah, sometimes."

The boat arrived in short order, after a curious series of ripples had come moving through the water. The boat itself was inconspicuous; varnished wood, a simple room atop a platform serving as both wheelhouse and lodging. The prow and stern ended in upturned points, giving the vessel a modest aesthetic. Lanterns hung from lines strung from the roof to the ends. No flame illuminated the oriental style lamps from within, but cut out of the sides was a symbol, reminiscent of a crown with three spikes.

A bronze man exited the room, grasping the rope from the deck and casting it on the mooring post where the loop caught around. The man was lean, southern Chinese by the look of him, and upon seeing Dr. Darien awaiting him, greeted them with a polite smile and nod. He was bare-chested from the waist up but wore loose-fitting black pants like one might find in an oriental temple.

Quinn returned the hello. "The Kaiju seem to have a harder time detecting wooden ships." She explained. "No radar or radio signals either."

"Smart." Shane had to agree.

Chao Gang tossed a black duffle bag overboard and hopped the railing himself, landing light as a cat on the planks. Shane saw that on his feet were tabi socks, designed for swift and silent movement.

"Good to see you again, Dr. Dairen." Chao said in paced English, slinging his bag over a shoulder. "Thank you for inviting us."

"Happy to have you." Quinn extended a hand for him to shake, only for Gang to hesitate a moment when he saw it before returning the gesture.

He chuckled apologetically. "Sorry, western customs still confuse me sometimes."

"I am Shane." Instead of reaching out, Redmond put his right fist into his left palm, arms out and elbows bent horizontally in the traditional wushu bow, tilting his head sharply.

Chao's expression opened in pleasant surprise, and he did likewise with crisp, practiced precision. "I am Chao."

"Suǒyǐ jiǎodù rènwéi tā xiànzài hěn kù?" A voice said from the boat. Leaning over the rail, Tozawa did not look very amused by the Canadian's attempt to honor his new acquaintance. Like his companion, he was shirtless, the toned muscles of his chest, stomach and arms glistening with tropical sweat.

"Shénme pále nǐ de pìgu?" Chao scolded. Tozawa shouldered his own black duffle and vaulted the rail. He walked up to the trio, offered Darien a wushu salute combined with a bow at the waist, and continued past without any consideration towards Shane.

Gang shook his head. "I apologize for my brother. He has been rather terse lately."

Redmond dismissed it with a wave. "No worry. We all go that black sheep in the family, eh?"

Tozawa disappeared up the trial, heading to the facility. "Come on." The doctor casually turned in the same direction. "I'll get you guys settled in. Tomorrow you'll meet the rest of the team."

"It will be good to become familiar with the others." Chao said. "We will need to rely on one another if we are to survive this journey."

"Does the Brotherhood know anything about Urth?" Shane asked.

"No. We've only learned of it from Dr. Darien. But we are concerned that the Red Bamboo may be attempting to establish an Antarctic base. If they discover the entrance to Urth before we do, we may never be able to vanquish them for good. Not to mention what they might discover there; resources, artifacts-"

"The point is to find whatever's there to be found before those Commie pricks do." They could hear the anger in Quinn's voice. Hardly any decent person would hesitate to loath the international Communist clique, their bloodstained hands deep into every vice known to man; arms, narcotics, espionage, civil instability, human trafficking.

But Dr. Quinn Darien found a particular reason to hate them. Since the sixties they had made several attempts to enslave Kaiju, walking weapons of mass destruction at their disposal. For a woman who had spent her life studying the creatures, she took it very personally.

"But we're not there yet. We've got a lot of work to do."

29


End file.
